When Tomatoes Meet Pasta
by Candied sweets xD
Summary: Antonio, heir to a wealthy food corporation, is forced to run an old restaurant or be disowned. Lovino, in desperate need of money, convinces Antonio to hire him. Soon, feelings spark, but will Lovino and Antonio's family accept this homosexuality?Spamano
1. Chapter 1

**This came to me randomly at three in the morning and I had to get it written down to go to sleep... so yeah, it's a bit random. **

**Warnings: Yaoi, swearing- Romano's potty mouth xD, my sleepy writing... (wtf?)**

**Disclaimer: Pilar and Anabel Carriedo are mine (to an extent anyway) but everything else belongs to the genius Hidekaz Himaruya-sensei. Plot line is loosely based on Coffee Prince. **

Lovino Vargas was _not _well off. His brother Feliciano was in his last year of high school with dreams to graduate from university with a culinary arts degree. His father, Julian Vargas, was a clumsy and absentminded man who, despite their financial problems, was constantly spending money on useless things, borrowing things then losing them, and overall adding to their debt. His mother, after spending all the Vargas' money had run off with some other man, leaving the rest of the family to pay back her debts and earn back the money they had lost. In order to earn money, Lovino did anything, even if it meant dropping out of school, juggling several jobs a day, coming home ridiculously late and sleeping for only a few hours before having to wake up and start work again.

Lovino possessed a mouth with vocabulary dirtier than the gutters of the streets, and was rude to basically everyone; men, women, children even. He was tough enough to handle all his part-time jobs, but that didn't mean he liked it; on the contrary he would complain for as long as anyone would about the tough hours he spent earning money. But _deep, deep_ down in his heart (this is the part where you find the drill they used in _Core_), he really did care about his family and wished they could live a better life, and it was because of them that he endured every weary day of work and money earning. But that was the extent of his caring heart. Outside of his family, his heart was a piece of stone, and he never opened himself up to anybody. He did not have any friends, and as for love… _love_? Love was overrated, Lovino thought. It comes, and it goes, but never lasts. _Love _was a double edged sword. And it was a utter waste of time.

Antonio Fernández Carriedo was the heir of the wealthy Carriedo Food Corporation, which was run by his maternal grandmother Anabel Carriedo. She had high hopes for him, but Antonio had no wish to take over the company. His mother's hopes of marriage were also wasted on him as he did not believe in love, or at least, that was what he claimed. In truth he had not met the right person yet, and all the girls his mother and grandmother tried to set him up with just weren't… well, the right one. But they were persistent, and his grandmother finally put her foot down when he was twenty, saying he had to be married by the time he was thirty, or she would disown him.

He was a cheerful and optimistic bumpkin, although rather senseless at times. He could be very passionate about the things and people he loved, but at the moment, both were scarce. He was an only child, but he and his (distant) cousin Francis Bonnefoy were like brothers, and he was the one who encouraged Antonio to rebel against his grandmother. "If you do not _love, _how can there be marriage? You must wait, mon chere, for the right one, the one who will make your heart pound and your head spin and… -insert long speech about _l'amour_-." But all these years of waiting, and so far, no one was remotely appealing. And that was saying something: Antonio was a renowned playboy (not as much as Francise though). So at the current age of twenty-eight, he was still alone.

~xXx~

Lovino hurriedly delivered the last of the milk and newspaper before hopping onto his rusty bike and speeding across town to his next job, cursing under his breath at how late he was going to be. Luckily, he was only ten minutes late, but this earned him a long lecture from his boss at the gazpacho-delivery store and only five minutes to deliver the soup to a customer on the other side of town. He had long learned not to complain in the man's face, but as he pedaled as fast as he could away from the shop he words "grouchy old bastard" came smoothly out of his mouth, as if he'd said it many times before, which he had.

He arrived at the house with barely a minute to spare, but still couldn't help but admire the luxurious house, the tall wooden door, the cream tiles and the red tiled roof. There were two floors, with a small, circular window at the top floor, its curtains drawn. The grass in the yard was perfectly trimmed and watered, the green so perfect it seemed unnatural. Halfway up the house there was a lemon tree which cast a shadow over the gravel path.

"Rich bastard," Lovino swore under his breath before he hurried up the path and knocked on the door, trying not to pant too hard.

"Ah, espera, I'm coming, I'm coming," came a muffled voice, and Lovino heard footsteps approaching before the door swung open to reveal the customer. He looked Spanish, with a head of brown curls, green eyes, and tanned olive skin. He was holding a half-eaten tomato (Lovino's mouth watered: he _loved _tomatoes) and his jaw was still moving to chew the fruit/vegetable (make up your mind!) in his mouth. And he was _shirtless_. Of course, being a guy, it was normal, but Lovino couldn't help but blush (_Dammit the weather's so hot today)_ as he cast an eye over his chest, those well-toned biceps and abs (but not crazily huge like some weightlifter or some gross crap) the planes of his chest, his perfect sun kissed skin… _wait! What the hell, why the heck am I checking this guy ou- Dammit put on a shirt you… _The Spaniard looked puzzled at Lovino, whose head was frying at the moment, the asked, "Um… can I help you?"

He snapped out of his reverie, blinking a few times before reaching for the gazpacho, red dusting his cheeks. "I-I'm here to deliver the gazpacho…" he stammered uncharacteristically.

"Oh, right!" His face lit up as he took the soup, and he turned around to place it on the kitchen counter. "How much do I have to pay you-" He turned back to the doorway, and was surprised to find it empty. "Huh? Where did he go?"

Lovino was dashing up the gravel path and pedaling his bike as fast as he could, his shortage of breath not completely because of the sudden sprint. "What the hell is that bastard's problem?" he cursed loudly, gripping the handlebars so tightly his knuckles turned white. "At least fucking put on a _shirt_, at least I was a guy, what if it was a girl…" He stopped himself for a moment, remembering that chest, that skin, those muscles…

"Damn it!" he shouted again, kicking the pedal a bit too hard which resulted in the entire bike tipping over. "Ahh… fuck."

Antonio looked at the money in his hands, then at the soup, then down at his shirtless torso. "He was staring for a while, wasn't he?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. "But he was kinda cute, wasn't he? Anyway, I'm hungry~~"

~xXx~

"How could you be such an idiot?"

The words rang in the air like a slap, but Lovino was unfazed by it. He just stared at the old man in the eye. "Wasn't my fault," he muttered, pouting, "The bike's a piece of crap anyway."

"You watch your language!" Gazpacho-man snapped, his face turning red, "Anyway, the repairs for that bike are coming out of _your _paycheck!" This did the trick, and the Italian whirled his head round to face the man, glaring at him. "Hey, old man, I need that money…"

"And I need employees who listen to their bosses!" he countered, glaring back. Lovino sighed, not bothered to argue anymore.

"Whatever. You should just get a new bike. It was bound to break soon anyway." Ignoring the man's grumbles, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the shop, mentally kicking himself for yet another blunder. He had just wasted all the money from deliveries, and if he guessed correctly his stupid old man would be wasting more money on worthless paintings to hang in their tiny apartment. Thrusting his hands in his pockets and sticking his bottom lip out, he started to walk home to get ready for the self-defense classes he held at twelve.

His pocket vibrated and he jumped (he had never gotten used to something vibrating near his leg), then quickly fished his phone out and flipped it open. It was Feli, which was… weird. Feliciano hardly ever used his phone, the main reason being he hardly knew how to use it. Then if he finally figured out the 'complicated buttons', the calls would always be to Julian, never to Lovino.

Nevertheless, the hit the green button and held the device to his ear. Almost immediately Feliciano's slightly whiny voice rang loudly in the eardums, and he had to hold it away from his head to avoid becoming deaf.

"Lovi, Lovi, I need you to come here! It's urgent, I need your help, Loviiii~~"

"Feli, what happened?" the elder shouted back, cutting off his brother's frantic stream of words. "Where are you? What's going on?"

"Ahh… I'm at Yao-san's pasta shop~~ Nii-chann, hurry upp~~"

"Y-you idiot, what did you do this time?"

There was no answer, instead there was a click and the line went dead. Lovino looked apprehensively at his screen, trying to figure out what the heck Feli was talking about, before running at top speed to go save his brother from whatever bastard was hurting him.

Lovino, being the next man of the family, was a lot tougher than his younger brother, who despite being cheerful and innocent was an irresponsible crybaby who depended on others to protect him. Actually, Lovino was similarly cowardly and weak, but _at least I can take care of myself_ was what he claimed. Feliciano, on the other hand, was completely vulnerable, stupidly surrendering to whoever tried to attack him. He needed connections in the mafia like Lovino, and the superpower of super-speed-retreat!

Soon he reached the restaurant and literally burst through the doors, searching for his brother. Then he saw him, standing next to one of the window tables4 sweat rolling down his cheeks, his mouth open in fear. Next to him was a tall man sporting a stern scowl. His blond hair and almost sickly pale skin made him look a bit like an albino, if it hadn't been for his startling blue eyes, which narrowed slightly at the sight of Lovino.

_Shit, he looks dangerous_. Lovino thought. _I should just grab Feli and run._

"Feliciano! He called out, getting ready to run from the blond giant. "Feliciano! Over here! Fuck you, German bastard," he continued, shouting at the other guy who, surely, had to be a potato-lover. It was written all over his goddamn face. "Get away from Feli!"

"Ah, nii-chan, help~~"

"You idiot, why do you always get in trouble… hey! Don't you dare touch Feli you bastard!" Mr. muscles was reaching for Feliciano's shoulder, his fingers looking strong enough to strangle the small Italian. Lovi knew he should help, but at the moment his feet were rooted to the ground, unable to move. He panicked as the fingers came closer, and shouted again.

_Flick_. The two brothers blinked as a small black thing flew off Feliciano's shoulder before lodging itself in the dirty wall. Lovino stared, open mouthed, as his brother turned back to the German.

"Oh my gosh, you saved me! Thank you~~!" He then proceeded to hug the guy, which was just _over _the line. Lovino stepped forward and broke the two up.

"Feli, did you call me just to get me to get a spider off?"

"Yep!" Lovino sighed in exasperation; _meet my brother Feliciano, the brainless idiot. _"Are you stupid or something? You could have just gotten it off yourself, instead of making me run all the way here, now I'm going to be late for work, and besides," he went up to face the other man, who was looking rather puzzled at the scene before him. "Who the heck are you, German bastard? What the hell do you want with us?"

"Ehh… nii-chan, don't be mean, Ludwig saved my life~~"

"_Ludiwg?" _Lovino spat out the name, hating the way it sounded on his tongue; his biased view on the world was mostly thanks to the mafia. "You're on a first name basis with him already? Damn you, Germany bastard, what the fuck are you doing to my brother?"

"You have… such colorful language." The man replied, mouth opening slightly in his puzzlement at the Italian's sudden outburst. "I just happened to be walking by."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Lovino scoffed, tugging on his brother's hand. "Come on, Feliciano, we're going. How come you're not in school anyway?" There was some resistance, but after a bit of pulling he managed to drag Feliciano out of the shop, but not before the younger of the two shouted out a grateful, "Thank you, Ludwig!"

"You idiot, you don't go talking to potato lovers dammit! Geez, stupid,"

"They're… rather weird, aren't they?"

~xXx~

"Mamá, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Anabel Carriedo cast a critical eye over her daughter, Pilar. She was a kind, beautiful and caring woman, worthy of Anabel's fiercely reserved and guarded praise. She was very proud at how her daughter had turned out; had she not become a housewife, she would be the first choice for heir of the Carriedo Food Corporation. Unfortunately, that was now impossible, and the next choice was, well… dire.

Pilar's one plunder in life was the carefree, lenient and forgiving way she had raised Antonio. The boy had grown up knowing no consequences, constantly being protected from the harsh realities of life which, in Anabel's opinion, had to be faced if you wanted to become successful. The boy was never punished, and not _once _did he ever admit he was wrong or take the blame onto his shoulders. It was always excuses, pushing responsibility away, lazing around and flirting with people. His easygoing upbringing was what had caused his current harebrained, senseless and irresponsible personality.

"Pilar, you know we must knock some sense into that silly boy while he can still be exploited." Pilar winced at her mother's choice of words; she was after all, known for being mercilessly blunt. "I need an heir for the company, and Antonio needs to settle down and build a family of his own. I want to be able to hold my great grandchildren before I die, and I will not die happy until that boy grows up." Pilar cringed. "Shouldn't you at least tell him about your sickness? He might be willing to change if he hears about it."

"Nonsense. You know that boy is much too softhearted. Once he hears I have cancer he'll collapse in a heart-attack mess in front of us. Geez, and I'm the one dying here. He worries too much, that boy." Pilar accepting this logic and the two women elapsed into a short silence before Anabel pulled a slightly crumpled paper from her pocket and unfolded it, scanning over the scratchy writing. "This is my plan," she explained to her daughter. "He's remained obstinate all these years; we'll need a proper plan of action if we want to influence him." As if on cue, the front door opened to reveal a smiling Antonio.

"Buenos dias, abuela, mamá." He grinned mischievously, and a vein started popping in Anabel's forehead. Pilar looked worriedly at her mother before returning Antonio's smile. "Buenos dias, Antonio. ¿Qué tal?"

"Ah… muy bien," Antonio replied airily, shrugging his shoulders. "Buenos dias, abuela. You called for me?"

"Sentaos, Antonio. I need to speak with you." She motioned at the chair in front of her, shooting death glares at her young grandson. Any normal person would have flinched, turned around and ran like their life depended on it under those harsh eyes, but Antonio only threw one of his killer smiles in retaliation, then obediently plopped himself in the squishy armchair.

"¿Y tu, abuela? ¿Cómo estas? Are you looking after your health?"

"Never you mind that," Anabel snapped, her patience running thin, "There's something very important at hand."

"More important than your health? Abuela, I know that your body is not well right now, you have to take care of yourself before you get horribly sick." Pilar squeaked softly in fright, but the other two didn't seem to notice.

"Don't use your flirting methods on me!" Antonio quickly dodged the flying tissue box, then smiled at his grandmother as if she hadn't just tried to kill him. "Abuela, you still have quite some strength despite your age. You scared máma." Anabel spared a glance at her daughter, whose face had become rather pale after the tissue box throwing incident, and was breaking into cold sweat upon seeing them glare daggers at each other. It seemed her caring side had skipped a generation; although Antonio seemed cheerful and optimistic on the outside, he had an abuela-side buried deep inside, and it always surfaced in front of the real abuela. Perhaps this was why the two never seemed to get along.

"Abuela, would you like some gazpacho? I bought some this morning, and have some left over. It's pretty good, actually." The cheeky boy knew exactly which strings to pull. Anabel _loved _gazpacho. Her fierce expression melted and was replaced by a mouth-watering-Feliciano-sees-pasta face, and she whispered softly, delicately, as if saying it loudly would break the chance of eating gazpacho into a million pieces, "Gazpacho? Did you say gazpacho?" Pilar rolled her eyes and subtly nudged her back to Earth. Anabel blushed slightly before deciding to carry out the plan.

_1. _The plan said in a wise voice (all in Anabel's head, of course), _Get him under control_

"You rascal, for eight years you've been spending my money playing with your friend and girls and every year the number just shoots higher. I send you to all those schools you wanted to attend but each time you come back, spend more of my money on useless things and have nothing to show for it!"

"He also has those credit card debts." Pilar pointed out. Anabel smiled in approval at her support.

"And you're known as the city playboy with that cousin of yours! No member of the Carriedo family should be known as something as vulgar as that! I told you to get married before thirty, and have you? You're still playing around like a playboy, and not settling down or anything, did you even listen to what I told you?"

"Pero, I'm not thirty yet," Antonio replied cheerfully, grinning like a boy who had just stolen candy and hadn't been caught. "I've still got two years to go, abuela…"

"¿Eres estupido?" Anabel shouted angrily, banging her fist on the table. "I've given you the chance to choose a wife, after all, it would be better if you chose a spouse yourself. But as heir to the Carriedo Food Corporation there is no getting out of getting married, you know that, right?"

"Abuela, your loud voice sure is soothing. I don't feel like I'm home if I don't hear it." This earned him a book in his ear and a small yelp from his mother, but he continued smiling. Anabel stared at his unchanging face, fuming, and decided to move on to stage 2.

_2. _the note whispered in her ear, as if Antonio could hear, _"Bring out proof."_

Pursing her lips, Anabel pulled a photo out from her pocket and slammed it on the table. Two pairs of eyes followed her hand to look at the photo, while Anabel looked annoyed at it. It was a picture of Antonio and a man with gray-white hair, red eyes, and freakishly pale skin. Antonio was winking at the camera while the other man sneered at it, one hand wrapped around the Spaniard's head and pulling his cheek close.

"Oh, it's Gilbert!" Antonio exclaimed cheerfully, picking up the photo. "Hey, this is a pretty good photo…"

"What is that photo doing here? Are you two in love with each other?"

"_En amor?_ No, of course not. Gilbert's just a friend."

"But look, you two are groping each other a kissing and hugging…"

"You rascal," Anabel said again, throwing a spoon at him. "You should be married and with a family, not smooching some guy! Have you forgotten what our religion so strictly prohibits?"

"I told you, abuela… it's not like that…"

_Stage 3_… somehow the image of running children with letters on their back was conjured in the old woman's head, then the children crashed into a wall (poor children!) to form the sentence: _GET HIM WOMEN!_

"Get married immediately!"

Antonio leaned forward, the smirk on his face rather apparent, "Then, should I go on matchmaking dates?" He took a moment to savor the dumbfounded expressions on their face before continuing, "But they have to be really pretty… it's not for me, you know. It's for your great grandchildren. Don't you want really cute grandkids?"

Anabel looked at Pilar exasperatedly. "I told you it wouldn't work."

"Shouldn't we give it a try? He's actually agreeing to something, for once." Pilar replied quietly, thinking her son wouldn't hear. He did, and he grinned.

_So cute_… He briefly thought of the gazpacho delivery boy, before returning to the task of enjoying his victory over his grandmother.

* * *

**Randomness to the extreme, but it's Spamano! You've got to love them!**

**Ah... coffee prince xD I'm going to sleep now...**

**Candied Sweets xD  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**FrancexBelgium…? Can that even work? They speak French in Belgium… ah, for the sake of the story. Legolas- Germania, Femke- Belgium **

**Set in Italy (haven't decided on a city yet) but they don't speak Italian cuz I don't speak any Italian :P Apart from piano stuff… It's also in third person limited if anyone hasn't noticed, so I'm not trying to be racist or anything D: Romano on the other hand...**

**Warning: yaoi (obviously), swearing courtesy of Romano, my writing in general.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia and Coffee Prince, I would make this real instead of just hoping and writing ffs.**

"Okay, kids, remember, when you see a German bas-man, what do you do?"

One of the kids with dirty blond curls, light violet eyes, and a light blush dusting his baby fat cheeks, shot his hand in the air. Lovino glanced at him before calling his name.

"Yes, Raivis?"

"I peed my pants."

"You… _what_? Y-you idiot, don't you know how to use the bathroom?"

'Yes, but…" the boy was on the verge of tears.

"Argh, come here. Urgh… this is so gross…" Lovino grasped the small boy by his arms and lifted him up, carrying him to the bathroom and trying his best not to let the rest of the boy's body touch him. Geez, kids these days. Who was the bastard who tried potty training him? The other kids were all squealing and screaming and dancing around Lovino's feet, not helping him get rid of the boy quickly. "Get out of the way, you guys!" he barked, swinging Raivis around him as a shield. The kids stepped back, still squealing, and held their noses or fanned the air in front of them. Tears started prickling at the boy's eyes.

"Get in there!" He almost threw him into the small tiled bathroom, wiped his hands on his jeans then asked, "Do you have any spare pants?" He nodded, than pointed at his Spiderman backpack. Swearing under his breath, Lovino unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and underwear (apparently his parents knew this was going to happen) and threw them at Raivis. He then closed the door, and turned to the other children. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get back to work!"

"Lovi! Hey, yoohoo!"

The Italian looked up from his bag to face the owner of the voice: a small woman with pale skin, green eyes and short, wavy blonde hair. A black ribbon held her hair back, the long ends hanging off her back. She was wearing an aqua dress with poofy sleeves and a small bow tie was tied around her neck. She was bouncing up and down on her heels, waving her hand in the air to get attention.

"Femke? What are you doing here? I thought you were in Belgium!"

"Eh, Belgium was just for training. I want to be able to make a living here, with all my friends!" She pinched the Italian's cheek and grinned, causing him to smack her hand and make her let go. Femke was the closest thing Lovi had to a friend, having grown up with her and at some point, had a crush-_admired _her very much. But she had gotten herself a boyfriend (French, apparently) and their relationship became purely platonic. Then, two years ago, she suddenly left for Belgium, wanting to pursue a career in chocolate making, and that was the last Lovino saw of her. "Are you still teaching those self-defense classes?"

"When you've got a brainless twit for a dad, a backstabbing mom and a clueless idiot of a brother, you'll know how it feels."

"I see your mouth is as dirty as ever."

"What did you expect?"

Femke chuckled, her laugh soft and airy, like a fairy. Normally, she gave off the impression of arrogance, her voice slightly condescending and teasing. But you knew by the way she laughed and smiled that she wasn't really like that. People who knew her knew she was very kind, and really did care for people.

"Well, if you need any help, you can always call me."

"Che, of course I know that! You've got so much fucking money you practically sleep in it."

Femke shrugged, used to Lovi's insults. She knew he didn't really mean them; they were just a reflex. "Just saying, you know?"

There was a slight pause, and then Lovi yawned, rubbed his eyes, and said sleepily, "Argh, I'm so tired. It's been such a long day…" He was looking forward to going home and sleeping on the pile of plush toys Feli had to sew together for money. Then he'd have to figure out how to handle the matter of the gazpacho bike.

"I'll walk you home."

Of course he protested (He wouldn't be Lovi if he didn't) but ended up walking home with her anyway, pushing the ruined bike beside him and making sure it didn't break anymore than it already had. It was refreshing to be able to see Femke again; his heart-like-stone self was getting a little lonely, and besides, he missed-ah, wanted to insult someone again.

"So, Lovi, met any girls yet?"

Lovino cringed; he was pretty sure Femke had always known of his crush on her, hell, she had even teased him about kissing him once. That was a long time ago, and besides, the Italian had chickened out of doing it. But Femke had made it clear that Lovi was just her friend, and nothing more. And he was happy that it stayed that way, actually. He saw the state she had been in when she broke up with her French boyfriend several months before leaving, and apparently she had broken up with her next boyfriend as well, a Dutch guy called Nikolaas or something. He had a sinking suspicion that he was the main reason Femke had come back.

"What about you? Isn't all this breaking up bad for you or something? Ah, Nikolaas, was that his name? The poor bastard…" He was immediately silenced by her icy glare and her furious silence. Even Lovino knew when to stop, especially with Femke. This was one of her sensitive spots. So they dropped the subject in favor for lighter ones. Femke's love life wasn't a nice subject anyway.

They talked about all kinds of things: Lovi's money making schemes, Femke's experiences in Belgium, their families, and Lovino's biased view on the world.

"Still hating Germans?"

"And French."

"But why? What did they ever do to you?"

Lovi shot her a look that said 'you know so don't deny it', and she flinched. She hoped it wasn't for the reason she thought it was.

"The mafia" he replied jokingly, laughing a little. "Plus Feliciano's hanging out with this German bastard and I swear he wants something."

"You've always been rather paranoid, Lovi."

"S-shut up!"

They were a few streets away from his home when he caught sight of a familiar person sneaking around the back road, holding a large object. Sighing, he turned to Femke, plastered the fakest smile he could manage on his face, and said,

"Well, it was good seeing y- I mean, er… welcome back." He blushed slightly, and Femke laughed. "You too, Lovi."

"Er, well… there's something I need to take care of, so… see you soon?"

"Of course. Do I get a hug?"

"W-What? No, of course not, geez! What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"Lots of things," she laughed again, and resorted to squeezing his hand instead. "I'll call you!"

"Y-yeah… sure…" He watched her walk away, skipping slightly, then turned back to the matter at hand (not a pun): catching the man in the alley. He carefully dropped the bike on the floor, then quickly tiptoed towards the man. He didn't seem to notice he was being followed until the alley opened up to the main road and light flooded into their eyes. The man noticed the shadow behind him, and quickly turned around to face an intimidating Lovino. He gave a little squeak and almost fell over.

"Julian, what do you think you're doing?"

"Lovi! Hi, how was work?"

"Don't give me that, you bastard!" Lovino shouted grabbing the thing his dad was holding and uncovering the cloth to reveal… a painting.

"I swear, Lovi, it wasn't too expensive, really! I got it off some old guy and…"

"Idiot, why do you have to keep wasting our money like this? You know how hard I'm working already to pay off your debt, dammit? And here you are buying more useless paintings! Our house isn't big enough for all of them, dammit!"

"I'm sorry, Lovi! And besides, the debts weren't all my fault…"

"Take responsibility, old man! Damn it…" Unfortunately, this was the head of the Vargas family, Julian Vargas. And he had been caught in the act of wasting money, _again_.

"Papà, nii-chan, you're back! Is that another painting?" They turned to face Feliciano, who was looking curiously at his brother and father, a puzzled expression on his face as he regarded the death glares they were shooting each other.

"Ah, Feliciano, my sweet, you're home!" Julian cried, throwing his arms around his younger son and dropping the expensive looking painting. Lovino caught it in time, but the edge of the frame cut into his palm and a few drops of blood appeared at the cut. He swore loudly, causing the other two to look at him. "Stupid old man! What the heck are you doing? If you drop this you can't return it, stupid bastard!"

"Nii-chan, it's bad to swear~~" Feli said sternly, as if he _didn't fucking know that already_. "Ma, papà, you shouldn't waste more money. Look, nii-chan's already working so hard."

"Eh, Feli you too?" Julian exclaimed, bursting into tears. Feli jumped at his father's reaction and started bawling too, apologies shouted in between tears and waterfalls, leaving Lovino to sweat drop at his strange family.

"If you're going to make me deaf, at least do it inside, dammit!" he shouted at the two of them, earning a brief silence before they started crying again. "And Julian, where did you get this?"

"Eh, why?"

"You've got to return it, of course! Stupid…"

"Eh, do I have to?"

"Of course, retard! First thing tomorrow! You better remember, Julian." With that, he stormed out of the street back to his bike, muttering a few swear words under his breath. Julian and Feliciano looked sadly at his back.

"I wish he'd call me 'papà' again like he used to." Julian pouted, watching his disappearing silhouette "He always calls me 'Julian' now, it's not nice!"

"Ve… I still call you papà though…"

"I know you do, cute little Feli! Haha, come on," He ruffled Feliciano's hair fondly (carefully avoiding the curl) before starting to walk back home. "Ah, but Lovi's got a point, doesn't he? He works himself so hard nowadays…"

~xXx~

Francis was, as usual, surrounded by girls (and some guys), doing some very… ah, inappropriate things… when his phone rang. He knew immediately by the ringtone (distasteful Spanish music) who it was, and excusing himself (with many protests and whines), he flipped the phone open and held it to his ear.

"¡Hola, Francis!"

"Antonio? Mon chére, it has been too long! How are you?"

"Ah… _mi abuela_ is on one of her rampages again."

"Again? Oh, poor Antonio. No one should have to endure a hell like that!"

"Eh, I managed to convince her to let me meet loads of pretty girls. You know, it's for _los niños_!" There was a small chuckle from the other side, and Francis couldn't help but chuckle as well. "_Mon ami_, am I too much of a bad influence on you?"

"As long as it helps me with the family problems. And besides, you could never be a bad influence."

"Ah, I am happy to hear that. We should get together soon, frère. It has been too long since I've seen you!"

"Well, good news, I came home this morning!"

"Let me guess, you decided the movie business just wasn't for you?"

"Hehe… sí."

"Ah… Antonio, what will we do with you?" The Frenchman grinned, turning to glance at the company he had just left behind, and decided that spending time with his dear cousin was more important. "Well, where are you right now?"

"Just driving around. Meet up?"

Francis grinned. "Of course. The usual?"

There was some laughing on the other line before the click and the monotone that indicated he had hung up. The grin on Francis' face grew wider. He was finally going to see his cousin again!

An hour later, Francis was waiting at the square, watching the water in the fountain jump, dance, twirl in the air like a ballet dancer before falling back into the pond. The sky was dark, save for the light of the streetlamps and the faint, twinkling stars. He noticed a group of girls staring at him, laughing and giggling. He winked at them, and they squealed and melted from happiness. Oh, the wonders of love!

That was when he saw the red Ferrari pull up next to the cobble road and the window roll down. He didn't need to see the driver's face to know who it was.

"Antonio~~ I have missed you!" Francis cried, throwing his arms around his cousin and surprising him with the collision that he almost fell backwards onto the car. "It has been too long, mon chére! You haven't changed a bit, though." He inspected the Spaniards tanned, smiling face; he was still the cheeky twenty-four year old who had left home for the wonders of the world four years ago.

"Same to you. I see you still haven't properly shaved."

"Ah, well, the girls love it." The two laughed and Francis clapped Antonio on the back (a little hard), bathing in the joy of finally getting to see him again. Although they were very distant cousins and weren't even related by blood, they had hit off from the start, and were closer than most brothers. Both of them were only sons, and were never really the family type. They hated the pressure their parents gave them; Mr. Bonnefoy wanted Francis to take over his position in a big international company when all he wanted to do was cook some good food and _love_ to his heart's content. Being labeled a playboy was insignificant if it was for love! And Antonio, well, he just wasn't suited for the fancy company life.

"Come, Antonio, I must show you everything you have missed in the years you've been gone! And we must meet up with Gilbert! He's missed you dearly!"

"Ah yes, I need to er… have a talk with him as well."

Francis shot a knowing look at him. "You mean…"

"Yeah."

Apparently, they were psychic.

They reached the house, and Antonio noticed the new paint that covered the before red, now gray-blue house. The curtains had also been changed to darker velvet, and now more statues dotted the garden, but otherwise it pretty much looked the same.

Francis was practically skipping up the stone path, landing gracefully at the doorbell and pressing it. Antonio followed him, although maybe not as lightly. He was too busy admiring the scenery. It was nothing new to him; he'd been to Gilbert's house many times before, but it had changed quite a bit and he had to admit it suited the German quite well.

The door swung open suddenly to reveal a tall man in his mid-twenties, his hair color resting between platinum blond and silver, with slightly red eyes and pale skin. A small yellow bird rested on his head, but even though it was practically digging its claws in his head, he probably didn't notice.

"Francis, you rascal. What business do you have, visiting the awesome me at a time like this?"

"Ah, Gilbert, guess who's come back!"

He stared for a while, trying to figure it out. "Uh, Matthew?"

"No, silly!" The Frenchman stepped aside to reveal Antonio, who was still looking at the new stones in the pavement. He didn't seem to notice the attention had suddenly shifted to him until a few seconds later, he turned and his eyes widened at the sight of his best friend, the albino Gilbert.

"A-Antonio?"

"Gilbert! Oh my gosh, it's been so long!" He dashed up the path, crashing into the other man (Francis clicked his tongue in mock annoyance) and hugged him tightly, almost suffocating him. "Gee, Mr. Awesome, how come you didn't call me when I was in Spain, huh?"

"Eh? Of course I did! What kind of awesome person like me wouldn't call their best friend, huh? Of course, you're not as awesome as me, 'cause I'm the awesome-est…"

"Yeah, yeah Gilbert. It's so good to see you again!"

"Anyway, what the heck are you doing back here? And how come you didn't call me?" He pushed Antonio away, glaring irritatedly at him, but they both knew it was just for show.

"Lo siento, mi amigo, pero yo estaba demasiado ocupado~"

"I told you not to spout Spanish like that, the awesome me can't understand you! What do you mean you were too busy? Too busy to call _moi_?"

Antonio looked at him strangely. "Gilbert, have you been spending too much time with Francis? Suddenly spouting French like that…" The German seemed to notice what he had just done and quickly clamped a hand over his mouth before Francis jumped on him, pinching his cheek and grinning. "Gilbert~ So I've finally rubbed off on you, eh? Ah, mon chére, you're growing up!"

"S-Shut up! Don't say something as un-awesome as that about someone as awesome as me!"

"Ah, my mistake, my mistake."

And the friends were back together.

~xXx~

_Fuck… stupid bastard should just buy a new bike instead of making me fix this piece of crap every time. _Lovi stuck one of the rear mirrors in, attached the seat with some glue, then rammed one of the broken pedals into the superglue before twisting it onto the metal rod, which was hanging awkwardly next to the wheel. He knew it wasn't going to last long, but at least it _looked _fixed. All he'd have to do was give it to the old man and hope someone else rode it before him. It had been on the verge of breaking before Lovino's sudden outburst anyway.

About that outburst… Lovi thought back to that Spaniard who had… er… looked very rich! Yes, that was it! He was admiring the rich jerk's _wealth_, not his freaking ugly (good looking) body! Besides, he was a _guy_! A guy! Guys don't ogle at other guys' bodies, unless they're gay, like Feliciano. Geez, Feli was so _gay _he was on the verge of puking happy rainbows and unicorns. Even now, he was still going 'Ve~~… nii-chan… another thing! Who was this Jap bastard he kept hanging out with? 'Nii-chan?' There was a perfectly good Italian term for brother, why did he have to start using some other language? He was just _so gay_.

"Lovi~~, come eat dinner! We're having Daddy Julian's Lovi Special: Extra Tomato pasta! Come on, you know you can't resist~" That immediately brought the drool to Lovino's mouth, and he was bouncing towards the kitchen in the blink of an eye, his eyes in the shape of red, juicy tomatoes~~

"Ah, I'm coming!" For a Lovi will always be a Lovi- the tomato loving bastard.

A few hours later, Lovino licked his spoon for the last bits of tomato sauce and smacked his lips contentedly. Ah, pasta never got old. Next to him, Feliciano mimicked his actions, then leaned back on his hands and stared up at the ceiling.

"Papà, your pasta is so good!"

"Feli, you're making papà embarrassed!~" Julian exclaimed, placing his hands on his cheeks and twisting around in his seat like an excited school girl. Lovi sighed and tried to look for more bits of pasta, catching his father's eye. "What about you, Lovi? Don't you like daddy's special-for-you pasta~~?" He threw his arm over his son's shoulder and snuggled his cheek close to his, causing Lovi see red and push the old man off.

"Bastard, don't touch me!"

"Aw, Lovi, you're making papà sad~~!" He pouted, sticking his bottom lip out like a lost puppy. This earned him a hearty kick to the shins and a slap to the cheek, albeit lightly. It was pretty hard to make Lovino really angry when he had just eaten pasta.

"Fine, it was… er… okay… and yeah…" He didn't have time to continue before Julian launched himself at him and hugged him tightly, exclaiming, "Lovi complimented my cooking!" Of course he ended up with a growing lump on the back of his head and an annoyed Lovi standing above him. Feliciano discovered some tomato sauce on his bowl, scooped it up with his finger and licked it, oblivious to the scene that was being played out in front of him. Then the phone rang.

"Ah, I'll get it!" Julian exclaimed, bouncing up and grabbing the enormous phone that sat on the small table next to the dining table. They didn't have enough money to buy a new phone, so their home phone was about a gajillion years old.

"Ciao! Vargas residence! Ah, Legolas?"

The two boys watched their father talk animatedly on the super old giant phone, Feliciano looking characteristically happy, his mouth open in a wide smile while his brother was glaring at him, annoyed that he had time to be talking on the phone when he could be cleaning the dishes or something. When his dad was happy, it was not a good sign.

It seemed his prediction was right as a short pause ensued from Julian's side, followed by the corners of his mouth twitching slightly before turning down completely, his eyes wide open in surprise. He quickly brought his hands up to his face and inspected them, then replied,

"Ah, the ring? Ring… haha of course I still have it! Haha, you think I'd lose something as important as that? Haha, yeah, hey look! Lovino's back! Gotta go!" He hung up, chuckling nervously, before almost crashing into the wall as Lovino's evil aura surrounded him.

"Julian… _what did you lose this time_?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry~!" Julian squealed in fright, waving his arms around. "But I think I lost Legolas' wedding ring… AH! I'M SORRY! I didn't mean to~!"

"Y-you bastard! What the fuck were you thinking! Ah, where did you lose it?"

"Eh, I don't know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You better be sorry, idiot! Oh gosh, Why are you always so… argh! How much was the thing?"

Julian told him. The next second, Feliciano was rushing forward to catch his unconscious brother, squealing "nii-chan! Nii-chan! Wake up!"

_Fuck… stupid bastard… my whole life is filled with stupid bastards… how could he lose something like that when we're already so short on money? Why did he even borrow that ring anyway? Who wants to show off someone else's big fucking sparkly pointless waste of money anyway? Stupid bastard…_

Once they got Lovino back to world again, they frantically went to search for the ring, throwing things around to see if it was underneath, digging flowers from their pots, almost demolishing the kitchen, even searching the rubbish dump. And of course, Julian was no help. He just sat on the side and cried while Lovi shouted angrily at him to get off his ass and hurry up and help. With another nervous breakdown from Lovi, they discovered the ring was _uber expensive_, worth much more money than what the Vargas savings actually had.

Goddamn it, he wanted to just punch the lights out of that bastard, and his life would be a hundred times easier. What kind of a dad just sat around wasting money while their own fucking son worked his ass off just getting enough money to get food and pay the rent? Answer: not Julian.

Anyway, so he had gone to find the gazpacho manager, who was none too happy to see his rebellious worker with the attitude. The first thing he said when Lovino's face popped up at the window of his store was:

"You got the bike fixed yet?"

Fortunately, Lovi managed to get it working before coming to the shop, so he could nod honestly and not risk getting fired again. The manager, instead of bursting into happy tears, as Lovi expected him to, plastered an even more suspicious look on his face and demanded to know what he wanted. Ungrateful bastard.

"I was wondering if you could… er… pay me three months in advance." Lovino answered, working hard to keep his temper in check because otherwise there was no way in hell that was gonna happen. Turned out he didn't even have to bother. The manager exploded, yelling at Lovi, asking if he was an idiot; he wouldn't even pay a full timer three months in advance, let alone a part timer. Any other time, Lovi would have scoffed and called him a stingy bastard, but again he swallowed the remark and asked how he could get more money.

"Overtime."

Again.

He had been expecting this. Really! He had just been hoping the manager might be in a good mood today. No such luck, apparently. And they had to get the money for the ring paid off quickly. So he had no choice but to accept.

_Fuck my life_.

So here he was, pedaling the life out of him to deliver a late-night order of cold soup to some guy who couldn't be fucked to make his own food. Geez, and the gazpacho shop was supposed to be closed half an hour ago. The guy was lucky there was someone working overtime to bring his dinner to him.

There was a fucking traffic jam, and Lovino was feeling sick breathing in all the fumes from all the cars surrounding him. _Everyone should just ride bikes_, he thought grumpily, twisting the handlebars in impatience. _Then maybe the air wouldn't be so fucking polluted, and there wouldn't be tons of obese people walking around. Damn, I'm gonna get fucking lung cancer if this gets worse. _To prove his point, he started coughing violently, and was almost killed by a drunk driver. Great.

**Translations**

**abuela- grandma  
los niños- the children/little ones  
Lo siento, mi amigo, pero yo estaba demasiado ocupado- Sorry my friend, but I was too busy**

**Too much Spanish? It just comes to me (I'm learning Spanish :P) but I only put the parts that are quite obvious unless it's a giant sentence...**

**Gah the lack of even **_**knowing each other **_**is driving me crazyyy~~ but Coffee Prince uses this time to introduce the tons of characters so yeah.. it's essential apparently. Yes, Gilbert is Prussia but (sadly) Prussia doesn't exist anymore… so he's German now. **

**Reviews are loved :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Gilbert and Ludwig aren't brothers. Unfortunately. They're both German though. WHY IS ROMANO SO DISCRIMINATING? It makes me feel so bad… :(**

**Warnings: yaoi, swearing, minimal proofreading. **

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, not me. **

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

The Bad Touch Trio was back together. That was bad.

Well, not really, since they had grown up over the past four years apart. Before, they had been the punk delinquents of the neighborhood, constantly beating people up, stealing girls, getting drunk, smoking, getting laid… the list was far too long. People were glad that they had settled down.

Antonio and Francis, being cousins, had obviously always been very close. You would think Gilbert felt left out, but they never thought of him as being outside the family. They were three brothers, having fun and causing havoc in town like any other brothers. Besides, Francis and Antonio weren't blood related anyway.

Francis and Antonio had met Gilbert in preschool, when Francis had been beating Antonio up (what a nice cousin, don't you think?) and Gilbert beat Francis up for Antonio. He then declared that the Spaniard was to serve as a servant under his awesomeness (yes, his ego was already that big in _preschool_), and when Antonio blatantly refused the German settled with being best friends. Then they went to patch a crying Francis up, and the three became the trio that they were now.

_Anyway_, right now they were hanging around on the street, catching up with the happenings of their years apart, both in Italy and in Spain. They found out, much to Francis' dismay, that Antonio _still _hadn't found a girl, and they started teasing him about being asexual, and he swiftly moved the topic to Gilbert's love life, which was… non existent. Well, if you didn't include self-loving.

Then, _oh the horror!_, Francis' love life. A few months before Antonio had gone to Spain, his girlfriend, a Belgian girl called Femke, dumped him out of the blue and started going out with another man. Their relationship had been a very long and intimate one, and Femke had been one of the few people Francis was genuinely in love with. When she ended it, he was so broken up, and for a period of time Antonio was worried that he would actually try to take his own life, and he and Gilbert (yes, even Gilbert was worried. That was how bad it was) had to stay with him almost 24/7 to make sure he was okay. Of course he wasn't. Even now, four years later, he still showed signs of missing her. Sure, he was always pimping with tons of other girls but they all knew that he only loved Femke.

"You know, she's back," Antonio said apprehensively, hoping he hadn't hit a sensitive point. "Back in Italy, I mean."

"Is she? What happened to Belgium?"

"Don't tell me you still miss her, Francis! It's been almost five years now! Since when does the playboy of the town mope over a simple breakup?"

There was no answer, and Gilbert glared at Antonio for bringing the awkward atmosphere down on them. He shot an apologetic look back, and mouthed an 'I tried'. Gilbert rolled his red eyes.

"So, you guys, let's go do something awesome! Antonio, my man, you have missed _way _too much in Spain. There is awesomeness to be created, _ja_?"

"Gilbert, I don't even know what you're talking about anymore."

"Haha, neither do I. Screw that, awesomeness doesn't need to be understood. It's just awesome. And _smile, _Francis. You look like a mopey teenage girl. Dude, _so _not awesome."

"Say awesome one more time, mon cher, and I will-"

"Do horrible things," Antonio happily cut in, before the Frenchman was given the opportunity to talk about his obscenities. "Gilbert's right, you guys need to show me _everything _that I missed!"

"Cheyeah, right?"

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

"Fuck!"

said Lovino.

He swiveled round to face the driver that had almost killed him and saw a helmet. The guy was riding a motorcycle, and a new one by the looks of it. See, this was the kind of thing the gazpacho old man needed, not some hundred-year-old bike that didn't look like it could take another one of those hits. He glared at the helmet, which was tinted to hide the face behind it, then turned back to the traffic lights. They had just changed to amber, and he placed one foot on the pedals, ready to take off. Then the drunk motorcycle dude popped up next to him, and he could swear he saw the guy smirk before taking off at the sight of the green light.

"Oh no you don't!" the Italian shouted before taking off at top speed, his feet working so hard at the pedals they might have caught fire soon. Mr. Helmet turned into a small street, going _way _too fast to be legal, and Lovi did the same a few seconds later, no longer caring that he was going off route and was going to be late for the delivery. Right now, all he wanted to do was beat the crap out of that guy.

That was when he heard a small yelp, and the helmeted man reappeared from behind a car, with… _was that a person?_ Lovino braked, watching in surprise as he watched a whole _woman _being dragged behind the motorcycle and up the slope, but he had been going too fast and instead of stopping right there, he skidded all the way over to the motorcycle and the poor bastard, knocking into the captor's hand, which let go of the woman's. Basically, Lovi unintentionally saved the random guy who was being dragged away by the random motorcycle driver.

The driver also braked, which resulted in the bike crashing into the motorcycle (oh, his boss was going to _kill _him) and sending both Lovi and the helmet man flying forwards. The helmet fell off in the process, and when Lovino got up, curses flying out of his mouth, he found himself face to face with none other than spider-flicking Ludwig, the infamous German. And judging by the pink tint in his cheeks and the foul smell in his breath, he was drunk. Very drunk.

"What the… Feliciano? Hi! Waaassup~~?"

"Fuck, what happened to you? I'm not my stupid gay brother, dammit! And what the fuck do you think you're doing, dragging people around the road?"

"Ve…"

"F-fuck, what d'you think you're doing? Bastard, fucking German bastard!"

"Feliciano s-said that you werout of moneh," Ludwig slurred, his head lolling from side to side. "S-so, that guy looked pretteh rich…"

"Fuck, how much did you drink?" Despite himself, Lovi was actually feeling _sorry_ for the German, and he mentally slapped himself five million times before kicking Ludwig and dragging him up by his collar, which was _hard_. The guy must've weighed a thousand tons, and it didn't help that he wasn't really supporting himself. Lovi slapped him, trying to get him to wake up.

"Listen, you fucking Nazi," he growled, throwing a worried look over his shoulder at the blond woman who had just been dragged across the road. Her two friends were rushing to his side and were helping him up, and they were slowly approaching Lovino and Ludwig. "I would gladly just leave you here and let these guys handle it, but seeing as my bike is now in ruins I'm gonna have to beat you up myself, which I can't do here, can I? You hear me?" He slapped him again, and his eyelids fluttered open. "Ja… whatever you say, Feliciano…"

"And one more thing, fucking stay away from my brother, got it?" He nodded sleepily. "Now, on the count of three, I'm gonna let go, and you run for it, okay? You hear me, jackass?"

"Lovi… it's bad to swear…"

_Fuck Feli, how much time have you been spending with this potato-bastard? _Lovino wondered, slapping the German once more for the heck of it. Those people were coming close. "Okay, okay, come on! On three!" The German nodded and chuckled softly. Lovino leaned back, hating the smell of beer on the guy's breath

"Y-you bastard! What do you think you're doing, huh? Kidnapping people, you know you could have killed him! Fucking bastard, do you even have a brain in this blond poof of yours? Huh?" Ludwig started laughing uncontrollably, and Lovi's grip on him slackened a little, so he slipped a bit. Groaning, he pulled him back up and put up three fingers, shaking the German a little so he'd notice. He continued laughing.

"Bastard, what d'you think you're laughing at, huh?" he continued to spew insults, and at the same time slowly put down one finger. "You stupid bastard! Wait till the police get you! Dammit, I just hate guys like you!" He put down another finger, and shook him one more time before letting go.

And the stupid bastard didn't move.

He just stared at the Italian, cocking his head slightly in confusion. He looked down at his shirt, which was no longer being held by those hands, then back up and the Italian's face, unable to make the connection. "Huh?"

"_Run_, you fucktard!"

"Oh~~" And he did, kicking Lovi's bike and almost tripping in the process. Lovi stared, astounded, at his retreating figure, before remembering the act and pretending to chase after him. That was when he kicked the bike as well (oh, Lovi, why do you fail so miserably?) and fell over. Face first.

"Ah… SHIT!" he shouted, jumping up and brushing the dirt out of his face. "Yeah, you better run! Fucking German bastard…"

"Dude, I'm German as well," came an annoyed voice behind him, and Lovi turned to face a fucking _albino_, and apparently German as well. Therefore, he was evil. He was glaring at the Italian, and Lovi returned his red-eyed stare, thin-lipped and scowling.

"Are you okay?" Lovino asked the slightly limping woman, still glaring daggers at the albino. "That guy's a fucking stalker, so you're lucky to be alive." He scoffed, then turned to the completely destroyed bike. It was like someone had H-bombed the tiny metal frame, and from Lovino's mouth came a long string of cuss words as he tried his hardest to put the pieces back together. But it seemed the bike had come to the end of its long and harsh life, and remained broken. It had happened so many times before, but it wasn't going to be the same. This thing was beyond repair now.

"Fuck!" Lovino shouted, kicking the broken thing once more. A concerned squeak came from behind him, and he turned around to face the blond wom- ah, guy. With long wavy hair. What the heck? Seriously, if it hadn't been for that _gross _stubble covering his chin he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. Talk about _gay_.

"Geez, is your bike gonna be okay? I mean, it's my fault and everything…"

"The heck are you talking about, Francis?" The albino shouted, casting a disgusted look at the Italian. "Didn't you see him with all those hand signals and shit? I bet you guys planned it all out. You just want the money for the bike repairs, don't you?"

"Go to hell, potato bastard." Lovino spat, glaring. "I just saved your friend's life, where's that gratitude, huh?"

"Why you, how dare you speak that way to the awesome me?"

"Okay guys, break it up," the third guy said, stepping out from behind Mr. Blond transsexual. Lovino cast an annoyed glare at him, expecting some other giant ego jerk. Then he saw the head of curly, brown hair, those emerald eyes, the perfectly tanned skin… his blush deepened as his eyes wandered to his chest. Thankfully, it was covered now by a thin white shirt, but still! And his eyes… they were so fucking _amazing_… !

He suddenly let out an incoherent shout, scaring the crap out of the others. This caught the Spanish man's attention, and recognition sparked in his green eyes as he gave a small yelp of surprise and shouted gleefully,

"Hey, you're that boy who delivered the gazpacho! Who would've known? Small world, huh?"

"Too fucking small…" Lovino muttered under his breath, the heat rising to his cheeks and staring at the floor.

"You know him?"

He nodded. "Yeah, this guy delivered this awesome gazpacho to me and forgot to get the money for it! I still have to pay you for that…" He rummaged his bag, presumably for money, but Lovino wasn't paying attention. He needed to get out of here _now_. Like, _right now_. But all hopes of escaping flew away on a shiny unicorn (courtesy of Arthur) when the Spanish man laid a hand on his shoulder, keeping him rooted in place. Lovino scowled at him, trying to wriggle himself free, but the other guy kept his hand in place, probably oblivious to the other party's struggles. He pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to him.

"Here. That gazpacho was great, by the way."

"Uh…"

"Antonio, what are you doing? Didn't you hear me when I said he was acting the whole time?"

"Were you, mon chére?" the Frenchman asked, placing a hand on Lovino's other shoulder. He suddenly felt very cramped, and swatted both their hands away, the red on his cheeks no longer only from embarrassment but from anger.

"Of course not! I'm not a fraud or anything! Geez, fuck you!"

"Oh, language," the Spanish guy, was his name Antonio?, scolded, clucking his tongue in mock annoyance. "You're not as cute when you swear, you know." The red flooded his cheeks again.

"W-what the hell? I-I'm a _guy_, you know! Stupid S-spanish faggot!" He was cut off by Antonio's sudden tinkling laugh; it was such a nice laugh… like little wind chimes ringing in his ears… and…

Shut up, Lovino.

He was about to scream his way out of there (like a very _manly_ man, I assure you) when a card was thrust in his face. It was all black and shiny, with those plastic coatings that made them all smooth and probably contributed to the shininess. There were some white words printed on it, but right now the card was too close for him to read them.

"What's this?" he snarled, trying his best to glare at those (beautifully) green eyes, but failing miserably. Antonio was completely unfazed, his smile so wide he would need plastic surgery to get rid of that later.

"My business card, of course! Just in case you get in trouble with your boss~!"

"Hey, Antonio, have you been listening to me-"

"Come on, Gilbo, give the boy a break~! You can call me anytime, kay?" he added as the albino dragged him away angrily, closely followed by an increasingly horny Frenchman. Lovino was left standing there, mouth hanging open in confusion, before noticing the time and swearing loudly. He stuffed the business card angrily into his bag (out of sight, out of mind) and decided to abandon the pitiful bike, instead resorting to heaving the big bag of soup and dashing over to the customer's house.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"Unforgiveable! Completely careless! How could you be so stupid?"

Lovino winced as each word was sharply thrown at him, impaling his head like a ninja star. For once, he didn't retort; he just hoped the whole business would blow over and he could keep his job.

"I thought I could trust you! You know, I hired a weak looking guy like you 'cause I thought it'd be cheaper, but look at the mess you got me in! How am I supposed to sell anything now?"

He wanted to yell that he wasn't weak, but now wasn't the time.

"Y-you get the bike fixed, you hear me? Once it's fixed, consider us done! I don't want you working for me anymore."

Pow! The giant arrow was shot through his forehead, throwing it back as he fell backwards onto the pavement. Of course, that was all in his imagination. If only.

"Please, Mr. Zwingli! I need this job! I can't support my family without it!"

"You…" The man sighed exasperatedly, "I've tried, Vargas, and I can sympathize with your situation. Really. But reckless youth like you are simply too… well, reckless. Now remember to fix that bike."

"Do I get my money then?"

"No!"

End of conversation.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Julian and Feliciano were surprised, to say the least, when they found themselves with an armful of crying Lovino at the unholy hour of one thirty in the morning. It had been many years since he had shown any sort of weakness whatsoever (apart from all that running away), and here he was, bawling his eyes out and fussing over the loss of his job.

"Ah, it's okay, Lovi! It wasn't your fault at all, don't cry~~" Feliciano tried to reassure his brother, patting him on the back. Lovi lifted his head to face him, and Feli flinched under his harsh glare.

"Idiot, of course it wasn't –hic- my fault… It was your fucking German bastard's fault, you idiot –hic-! This is all your fault, Feli!" This brought the younger Vargas to tears as well, and Julian couldn't help but sweatdrop at the difficult situation he had just landed in.

"No, Lovi, don't blame Feli! It wasn't anyone's fault, really! Please, don't cry, boys, I'm going to cry too… please don't cry…" Soon, all three of them were sobbing into each other's arms, until Lovi gathered his senses and slapped them both in annoyance, the tears still glimmering at the corners of his eyes. "F-fuck, It was both of your faults! Bastards…" He impatiently wiped his tears away, then stormed out of the room, swearing loudly as he went to express exactly how angry he was.

And to drown out the sounds of his family's howling. Nothing hurt him more than his loved ones crying, not even that deep well of guilt bubbling at the bottom of his stomach.

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

"You sure you're okay, Francis?"

"Of course I am, mon cher! There is no need to worry about _moi_!"

"Well you better be okay! Or I'm suing that sonofabitch!" Gilbert shouted angrily, a hint of fight glinting in his eyes.

"You don't have a lawyer, Gil,"

"I don't care! Someone as awesome as me doesn't need one!" Then he rounded on Antonio. The Spaniard smiled innocently up at him, clueless as to why his friend was being all annoyed. "And you, Antonio! Why did you give him the money _and_ you business card? Anyone knows he planned that scene!"

"Ahaha, he was just… too cute~! Someone that cute couldn't have pulled off something like that, right?~"

His friends sighed at his naïveté, but Antonio didn't seem to notice.

"Twenty-eight and still a bumbling fool. No wonder his grandmother's having stress problems." Francis muttered. "You're helpless." Gilbert chuckled weakly in agreement.

"What are you talking about? Abuela's doing fine~! Ahaha…"

Cue awkward silence.

Francis and Gilbert turned to each other. "He hasn't changed at all, has he?"

"You're behind help, Antonio,"

Ahahaha….

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"You better call me tomorrow, Antonio."

"Of course!" Antonio smiled brightly, his hand idly turning the doorknob to his house. "Geez, who do you think I am, anyway?"

"You really want an answer to that?" Gilbert asked, punching his shoulder playfully. Antonio grin widened, and he returned the punch with _maybe _a bit too much force. Gilbert was left massaging his throbbing shoulder while Francis pulled the Spaniard into a one-armed hug, his hand casually moving to grope his ass. Of course, it was slapped away before it reached its destination.

"Welcome back, Antonio,"

"Hehe, thanks. It's good to be back."

He watched his friends leave before returning to his house. He yawned, setting his stuff down on the table and diving onto the sofa, grinning like a young child as he bounced up and down on the cushions. What? Bouncy sofas were fun.

He was interrupted from his fun by the ringing of his cell phone. He jumped off the sofa and rushed over to the dining table and dug around for his phone, which he found in the pockets of his jacket. He quickly flipped it open and held it to his ear.

"Hola, Antonio speaking~"

"Antonio?" It was a female voice, a familiar tone to it as it spoke his name. He blinked, trying to place the voice to the face.

"Femke?"

"Yeah, it's me. I heard you got back from Spain,"

"Yeah, a few days ago. Heard you also came back. How are you?"

She chuckled, and Antonio couldn't help but smile as well. "I'm fine, thank you very much. How come you didn't call me?"

"Eh, you know, coming back after all these years can be a pain, can't it?"

"I know exactly what you mean! There's dust _everywhere _here!"

He laughed, imagining the small Belgium girl freaking out about the layer of dust that covered her furniture right now. Antonio had gotten Francis and Gilbert to come in while he was gone and dust the stuff (it had taken _a lot _of persuasion), but it still seemed so… abandoned… when he pushed that door open for the first time in four years.

He talked animatedly to Femke for some time, carefully dancing around the subject of Francis and others. While Francis and Gil had harbored only bitter feelings toward her after the breakup, Antonio had been happy to stay in contact with her. Francis may have been her ex-boyfriend, but out of the three of them, Antonio knew her best.

Finally Femke gathered enough courage to inquire about his French cousin. Antonio answered cheerfully, telling her he was fine and everything, almost oblivious to the uncomfortable silence from the other side. _Almost. _He might have been clueless, but he wasn't a complete fool.

They finally said goodnight, and Antonio looked cheerfully at the dark screen of his phone before going back to stretching out on the sofa.

"Ah… I suddenly feel like eating pasta… That Italian boy really was quite cute~!"

And then he fell asleep.

**Drunk Germany O.o Oh gosh, that was so fun to write but… a bit disturbing… Francis=Han Yoo Joo xD I'm sorry Francis, but there was no one else to play it. And your stubble is very **_**artistic.**_

**Pleh… this is such an angsty chapter… arghh I'm so sorry Romano Francis Antonio Femke but it had to be done :(**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews :D I love you all ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry this took so long to update, as most of you know I was in Nepal breathing air much fresher than Hong Kong's :D And it was **_**amazing**_**. Seriously, the Himalayas are **_**beautiful**_**. **

**So this chapter is a little longer than usual to make up for it. :)**

**Warnings: Swearing, yaoi, non-English, my writing in general**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, everyone would become one with Mother Russia. **

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

It was quite late when Lovino woke up to Feliciano fussing over homework that he had forgotten to do last night. He checked his watch: eight o'clock, giving him over two hours to laze around before those self-defense classes. Watching Feli fret over bits of paper while sipping espresso was somewhat comforting, even if it was rather sadistic. That was when the phone rang.

"Ah, I'll get it!" Feliciano shouted, but Lovino had already reached for it and was holding the huge thing to his ear; they didn't have enough money to buy a new one so their current phone was about a million years old.

"Vargas residence," he answered, croaking slightly from sleep. There was some shuffling on the other side, then a deep, English accented voice came from the phone. "Ah, Lovi?"

"Mr. Kirkland," the Italian grimaced; calls from their landlord were almost always bad news. He was right. "Um, I just wanted to call you and tell you the rent has gone up again."

"Again? Why?"

"Well, you know, demand and all that, you probably wouldn't understand,"

"The hell I wouldn't! You think I'm some dumb dipshit, you Briton bastard?" The outburst had come out before he could control his mouth, and he was hurriedly apologizing (reluctantly): "Ah, I'm sorry, that just came out all of a sudden…" There was a short silence, then Mr. Kirkland said gruffly, "Up 250 euros, Mr. Vargas. By Sunday." Then the line went dead.

"Shit!" Lovi shouted, throwing the phone on the floor. "What the fuck is his problem, suddenly making us pay all that money! Damn it, that son of a bitch!"

"Lovi~ it's bad to swear!"

"Shut up, Feli! Eat your breakfast!" Lovino shouted, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting shouting at his brother. But he was just too angry at the moment to apologize, and besides, apologizing wasn't really his thing. Feliciano didn't seem to mind though; he was used to his brother's outbursts of rage and instead went up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Ve… fratello, it'll be okay. I could always drop out of school and start working."

"Y-you idiot! Of course I'm not going to let you quit school!"

"Eh, but you did…"

"Exactly!" He then realized that Feli had called him 'fratello' instead of 'nii-chan' for once, and his anger dissipated slightly. Seeing that his brother had calmed down, Feli asked, "How much did he raise it by?"

"Two fifty," Lovino answered numbly, running a hand through his hair once more before standing up and brushing the dust off his clothes. "Well, I gotta go job hunting. Tell that sorry excuse for a dad that if he dares waste money again, I really _will_ sic the mafia on him."

"Eh… Lovi that's so mean!"

"Just tell him, okay? Be good in school and _stop _hanging out with that potato bastard. Seriously." He snorted and ignored Feliciano's protests, slinging a jacket over his shoulder as he left the house. He could vaguely recall a café nearby that had put up an offer for a part-time job, and that was where he intended to go. But first, he had to make a quick stop.

Hoping that she hadn't moved from her old house, Lovino walked up to the white door and knocked three times, biting his lip nervously and rubbing his hands together to warm them up. It was still pretty warm for November, but the sudden drop in temperature between now and October was still enough to make him shiver.

The door swung open to reveal a sleepy looking Femke. She was rubbing her eyes and brushing her hair out of her face, clad in her sleeping gown and bare feet.

"Lovi! Hey, what are you doing here this early?"

"Aren't you cold? It's fucking freezing and you're wearing some skimpy dress with no shoes!"

"It's a lot colder in Belgium," she answered simply, smiling. "You didn't come here just to tell me off for my choice in clothing, did you?"

"Er… no…" Lovino shuffled slightly, trying to figure out how to word this. Femke mistook this for him being cold and invited him into the house. He quickly refused, hoping to get this over and done with.

"Well, you know how stupidly clumsy Julian is, right?" Femke opened her mouth to answer, but Lovino quickly ploughed on. "Er… well I just wanted to borrow some money… it's all his fault, okay? I didn't do anything, he's just a fucking bastard as usual…" He looked up nervously, hoping she wouldn't throw him out and yell about being a fucking beggar. Hey, it wasn't his fault anyway! If she did that he'd kick her balls… wait… she didn't have any. "Some idiot also broke my bike again and I'm out of a job and and… and…" He was interrupted by shrill laughter, and he looked up irritably to Femke, who was practically laughing her guts out. That girl always did have a rather… inflated… sense of humor.

"Haha, it's okay, Lovi!" she chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. "You want to talk about it? Of course I'll lend you money, geez, what kind of a friend do you think I am?"

"You really want me to answer that?" Lovino asked, smirking as he let himself into the spacious house. He always did envy her; despite having shared a (happy) childhood, Femke had always been a lot more fortunate than the Vargas family. That was why she could go off the Belgium making chocolate while Lovino had to stay at home earning money.

"Someone broke your bike again? What happened?"

He told her the whole story, getting more and more agitated as he reached the climax where an atomic bomb had been set upon the poor bike. Several 'German bastard's laced his words, then he told her about the whole ordeal with that albino dude. Something flashed in Femke's eyes as he described the three guys in turn, but it was gone quickly and Lovino continued. Then he remembered the business card that was still stuffed in his bag, and he dug it out, throwing it at Femke in disgust.

"That guy thought I planned the whole thing! As if I would go fraternizing with the fucking enemy! Like hell I'm gonna go and lick his richass shoes and beg for money!" Lovino fumed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring daggers at the small black card. Femke inspected it, her eyes running over the name several times before saying quietly, "Lovi, I know this man."

He perked up, uncrossing his arms and leaning in closer. "What? You know that Spanish dude?"

"Yeah… Antonio Fernández Carriedo. He's… well, a friend."

He sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. "Femke, how many times do I have to tell you to choose your friends carefully?"

"Hey, I can choose my friends perfectly fine, okay? I doubt it was Toni picking on you; it was Gilbert, wasn't it? The albino?"

"Che, same thing."

She laughed softly, running the card through her fingers before returning it to him. "What a coincidence, for you to have run into Antonio. I should have introduced you to him, he's a very nice guy, you know."

"What, is he your new boyfriend-target?"

"What? No!" She pouted at him, suddenly becoming flustered. "If you must know, you were the first one I contacted after getting back! Well, apart from my dad, but he doesn't count."

"_I _was the first one?" he asked, looking at her incredulously. A blush suddenly spread to his cheeks, but he tried to ignore it. He was flattered to say the least, but hell if he was going to let her know! "W-wow, Femke… you're sad! Don't you have any other friends?" She laughed at jumped out her chair to pinch his cheeks, a smile spreading across her face. "Well you're my _most important _friend, Lovi!"

"E-eh? G-get off me, Femke! Ak…" He pushed her off, the blush darkening by the second. "W-what the heck, Femke!"

"Ah, you're blushing, Lovi! You're blushing~" She leaned forward to pinch him again, but he quickly pushed her off, said blush threatening to blow his face to the high heavens. He quickly got up, brushing the dust off his clothes and pretending to be angry, although he knew he could never truly be angry at Femke. "Well, I've got to go…"

"Eh? Ah, I'm sorry Lovi! Did I make you angry?"

"Ya think?" he fumed, making ready to go. He was, however, held back by a small tug to his sleeve.

"How much money do you need, Lovi?"

"Eh?" He had almost forgotten. "Well, uh…" She smiled up at him. "Uh… two hundred and fifty, for the moment…"

"That much, huh?" She lunged for her wallet while keeping a hand on the Italian's sleeve, as if scared he would make a run for it the moment she let go. She rifled through the contents, and came up with a hundred euro note.

"I only have this much for the moment. I'll drop by later and give you the rest, okay?"

"R-really? This is a lot, Femke…"

"Ah, it's okay, as long as you pay me back some time. You should find Toni. I'm sure he can find something for you to do."

"What? No way am I gonna work for that good-for-nothing Spanish bastard!"

"Ah, the Spanish have been dragged in as well?" She sighed in mock exasperation, then got up and guided him to the door. "Well, good luck in finding a job. Hope you get that bike fixed!"

"T-thanks for this, Femke…"

"No problem!" She grinned, waving as he made his way down the steps. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and waved as well, pushing open the gate in the white picket fence and running down the road. She jumped when he almost crashed into a speeding taxi and was about to rush to his help, but seeing him spout those expletives at the driver, she decided against it.

"Really, Lovi, you haven't changed a bit."

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"You're hired." Lovino looked up in surprise, not expecting to be accepted this quickly. "You make up your mind very quickly, Mr. Edelstein." Lovino stated dryly, looking up at the manager of the café.

"One of our workers called in sick today, and we need someone to replace him. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee a job for you after this week." He pushed his glasses up and looked down at Lovino, who sighed dejectedly. "So, here is the uniform, and the bathroom is there." He gestured at a small room at the end of the corridor, a neutral expression on his face. The Italian opened his mouth to protest, but closed it quickly under the other man's glare and obediently made his way to the toilet, but not before he let loose a few curses. Under his breath, of course.

Several minutes later, Lovino came out clad in a _frilly_ apron,with a piece of cloth wrapped around his head.

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" he growled, holding the poofy green dress that had come in the pile. The apron he could tolerate, but a fucking _dress_? Was this Edelstein guy a cross-dresser or something? He was about to bash his door open and demand a different uniform when it swung open by itself to reveal a lady with long, curly brown hair and a similar dress and apron. Her face lit up when she saw the apron, but quickly fell again when she saw he wasn't wearing the ridiculous dress.

"Eh, you're not going to wear that? Why not?"

"I'm a fucking _guy_, that's why! Give me proper clothes, this is stupid!"

The lady clucked her tongue at his language. "Aw, come on, I'll pay you extra!"

A few more minutes later, Lovino was serving the customers, a curly wig perched upon his head, the green dress poofing up and down like some Victorian get up, and a giant scowl on his face. _It's for the money, for the fucking money… _He shot a glare at the freaky frying pan lady, cursing his inability to grow a pair and bash her up with the cooking utensil for making him go through this humiliation. Anything for the money… Fuck this! He was dressed up as a fucking _girl_, whatever happened to his Italian pride?

Right. Out the window.

And so he busied himself with serving the customers with the scariest grimace ever.

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

"Ah, this feels just like the old days, doesn't it?" Antonio smiled, his fingers idly stirring the teaspoon in his cup of coffee. He watched the light brown liquid swirl in an almost hypnotic way, before balancing his chin on his palm and looking at his companion. Francis grinned back.

"What have we become, mon cher? Sentimental idiots, we are."

"Ah, we're old," he joked, waving a hand dismissively. "_como mi abuela~_"

"Not _that _old, I hope," he said, painting a shocked expression on his face. They stayed that way for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

"On the subject of your grandmother, how are those dates going? Meet anyone you like yet?"

"Oh, I haven't started on them yet. Actually, I'm supposed to meet six of them tomorrow. I wonder if we're going to have any fun~"

Francis grinned at the implications that he was sure Antonio had missed, but didn't comment on it. "Well, you must be grateful to your _grand-mère_. After all, she's going out of her way to find all these pretty women for you." He leaned in a bit, his teeth flashing as he smiled widely at him. "If you meet anyone nice, be sure to introduce them to me, okay?"

"Eh? But aren't you going out with Madeline?"

"Meh, broke up with her."

"Ah. My condolences."

"She didn't understand my love, mon cher! I couldn't stay with her if she couldn't understand my passion, my adoration of beauty, my-"

"She broke up with you because you were cheating on her." Antonio cut him off, looking solemnly at him. "And aren't I the passionate one?"

Francis frowned. "_Smile, _Toni! That serious face doesn't suit you!" He leaned across the table and pinched the corners of his mouth (a very sexy looking mouth at that~) and pushed them upwards, contorting his face to impossible proportions. He then took the opportunity to kiss his hand, winking as he pulled away. "There! Keep it that way!"

"Eh? _Mi mamá _said that if I make faces in the wind, it'll stay that way~" He pouted, and Francis wasn't sure whether to laugh at the joke or to have a serious talk with him about what to believe and what to dismiss as complete nonsense. Antonio was just like that at times. Completely clueless.

"You don't have much to be passionate about at the moment, do you?" Francis sighed, returning to his seat. "_Mon frère_, you shame me! How could the dearest friend of the infamous Francis Bonnefoy be deprived of love? It is preposterous!" He shouted the last word dramatically, whirling around and sending winks in his direction. Antonio laughed and pulled the Frenchman back to his seat before they attracted too many looks.

Suddenly his phone rang, and he quickly excused himself from the table to answer it. Antonio nodded and took a sip from his mug before drinking in the surroundings. It was a nice and cozy little café, although he couldn't help but notice one of the waitresses was scowling her face off. That scowl was making him frown too! This was bad~

Francis came back and was about to tell him something when Antonio quickly clamped a hand over his mouth and gestured at Miss Grumpy. "Look at the poor dear… She's going to get permanent scowl lines like that!"

His eyes rotated to look at the person in question, and they lit up upon seeing the brown hair, green dress and frilly apron. Tearing his mouth from Antonio's hand, he whispered excitedly, "That is one cute guy! Look at him! He has such a sexy dress fetish~!"

"That's a guy?"

Francis sighed, "Yes, my dear _Antoine, _that is a very sexy male just _ripe _for the picking!"He paused, then turned back to Antonio, "Hey, does he look familiar to you?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking…but I think I'd remember such a cute guy, don't you think~?"

They continued to stare, trying to remember where they'd seen the cross-dresser before. After a while, Antonio cleared his throat and asked, "Who was on the phone?"

"Oh, it was Gil! He wants to go to a bar… wanna come with?"

"Ah, it's okay. You know how I am with alcohol," Francis opened his mouth in surprise, then closed in and nodded. To say Antonio wasn't good at holding his liquor was… well, an understatement. In fact, one sip of the stuff sent him sprawling on the floor, unconscious. If he was lucky, it would leave him drunk beyond belief and when he woke up sober the next morning, well, he would probably find himself naked next to some similarly dressed girl, with the worst hangover _ever_. Francis didn't really see that as a bad thing, but Antonio could go on for hours about the ethics of it all. Really, not only was he the youngest, but he was also the most innocent of the three. That was just how he was.

"Well that's too bad. See you around, then!"

"Haha, yeah… See you!"

The Frenchman laughed and winked, not missing the chance to send a little air kiss his way. Then he jumped into his car and drove away, leaving Antonio standing on the porch with the wind rustling his brown curls. He stood there for a while before yawning and going back into the café. He quickly finished his coffee and put his hand in the air to ask for the bill. Tucking the number Francis owed him in the crevices of his mind; after all, Francis was his best friend and he would never bother getting his money back, he strolled out of doors and jumped into his own car before speeding out onto the road. He watched as the world whizzed by, only half aware of his surroundings as he thought to himself,

"Ah, abuela, why must you force love on me?"

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

"I'm home!" Lovino sighed as he kicked off his shoes, not bothering to put them away nicely. He then plodded across the hallway in his socks, before collapsing from fatigue on the pillows of the couch. "Ah, I'm tired… all that pretending to be a fucking girl was more tiring than I thought…"

He was too busy fuming to notice the dark shape that approached the couch, and only realized he was being ambushed when the sofa almost flipped over on him. "The fuck? Who the heck-"

"Hi Lovi!" his assailant said cheerfully, stepping out into the light to reveal… Femke. Lovino coughed in surprise.

"Femke? What the heck are you doing here?"

"Well, remember how I said I'd give you that one fifty later? Now is later," she grinned, holding out a hand to help him up. Lovino felt too annoyed to accept it however, so he swatted it away and got up himself, albeit a little clumsily. "I mean, how did you get in?"

"Oh, that! Feli let me in!" She jerked her thumb behind her in his brother's direction, who quietly said "ve…" before continuing a little louder, "I haven't seen Femke onee-san in a long time! It's good to see you back!"

"Thank you, Feli! Right back at you!" She grinned as the younger Vargas bounced over to them. "And here's your money!" She dug it out of her bag and waved it in Lovi's face, who suddenly felt something tugging at his conscience. "Are you sure, Femke? This is a lot…"

"You've already said that, Lovi! Just take it!"

"Ve… but Femke onee-san…"

"It's okay, really!" she waved it again, a bit more forcefully this time. Lovino couldn't help but detect some sort of desperation in her face as he took it from her. Just the tiniest hint, though. He might have just imagined it. "T-thanks… a lot…"

"No problem!" she replied brightly. "So, have you contacted Antonio yet?"

"Antonio?" He looked rather baffled for a moment before remembering who it was. "Oh, that guy."

"Ve… who's Antonio?" Feliciano asked, his eyes darting from his brother, to Femke, back to Lovi. "Is he your boyfriend, Femke?"

"What? No! Why does everyone think that?" she huffed indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. "He's just a guy who may or may not be able to help you guys out with your situation."

"I already got a job to cover for the delivery job. Besides, we're not dirt-poor enough to be groveling and begging,"

"You're pride really is too much… what kind of a job is it?"

"It's at the café down the road, if you must know,"

"And you're just there to cover for another person?"

Lovino opened his mouth to protest, but quickly clamped it shut again, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "Geez… how did you know?"

"I just do," she grinned, and pulled on her ribbon absentmindedly. "Well, I must go. But really, Lovi, you should find him. Even if it's not for money, I'm sure you two would get along just fine. He'd love you!" And with that cheerful note, she departed, leaving the two brothers to think about what she said.

"So, Feli, how was school?"

Obviously, he was determined _not _to think about it.

…

By the end of the week, however, it was his only choice.

"Screw this! Pride won't do me any good when we're living on the fucking streets! I'm calling him!"

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

He was bored.

He wasn't usually bored. No, he always had something to occupy himself with, whether it was hanging out with Francis and Gilbert, playing his guitar, or simply picking the tomato fields. But here he was, forced to listen to all these girls that his grandma had picked out for him and pretend to be interested. He had nothing against these girls, really, except for the fact that they were simply tools of his grandmother's devious scheme to get him married against his will. His reluctance was what was making this all boring, really.

And he had not interest in them. They weren't even remotely cute; his grandmother had no taste whatsoever, and frankly, he just couldn't see himself married to any of them. Yawning, he decided now was a good time to tune out and instead decided to study his surroundings again. Argh… this really was so very pointless…

"Well, I'll call you soon, okay?" The question brought him back to his senses and he nodded absentmindedly, silently glad it was over. Now he could have a ten-minute stretch before the next girl came. It was such a shame they didn't sell tomatoes here. It would make the whole ordeal so much better.

He was just about to go outside for some fresh air when his phone vibrated. He didn't recognize the caller ID, but he answered it anyway.

"¿_Dígame_?"

"It's me, you bastard,"

Blinking, Antonio tried and failed to identify the voice. "¿De parte de quién?

"Me! You know…" There was a pause on the other side, and Antonio waited patiently. "Uh… gazpacho?"

It took him several moments to realize it was the little Italian boy who had gotten into some trouble with them the other day… something about a motorcycle and some drunk guy. "Oh, you! Hello!"

"Repair money," Lovino growled; not a question, a statement. "Gimme."

"My my, you are the rude one, aren't you? That mouth of yours really doesn't match your cute face~!"

"Wha-what? Are you fucking with me? How can a guy be cute?"

"Well, you are~!" He smiled as a wave of expletives almost broke his phone, before continuing, "Where are you? I can meet up with you!"

"No need, stalker. I don't want you freaking the people here out 'cause of all your rich flashiness. I'll meet you wherever you are."

"Oh, okay!" he grinned, oblivious to the subtle insult he had just received. "Uh, what about…" He racked his brains for a meeting place far, far away from the restaurant, and finally decided on a square halfway across town. Lovino grumbled a bit at the distance, but agreed in the end. After he had hung up, Antonio brought his phone back to his ear to make one more phone call.

"Sí, ¿abuela? Could you please cancel all the appointments for later? I've got an errand to run." Ignoring the irritated scolding from the other line, he quickly pressed the end button, grinning wider than he had for the whole day.

Half an hour later, Antonio was waiting outside a pizza shop, sunglasses pulled over his eyes to shield them from the harsh rays of the sun. The smell of pizza was overwhelming, and it took all his willpower to stop himself from walking into the shop and buying all the food. One of the perks of being super rich.

He spotted the head of dark brown hair approaching, and he waved exaggeratedly to get his attention. He noticed the scowl marring that cute face once more before he rushed over, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Why did you have to pick somewhere so far away, bastard? Not everyone has a fancy Ferrari, dammit!"

"_Lo siento_, but there was someone I needed to get away from. You want some pizza?" He gestured at the open doors behind him.

"You'd better be treating, after making me run all the way here," he scowled, leading the way into the shop. Oh, how he wanted to pinch those cheeks! He really was so very adorable.

"So, you have the money?"

"Yup! How much do you want?"

He watched as the Italian boy blinked in surprise, apparently he hadn't expected him to agree so quickly. What? Of course not! He trusted him, right? Ahaha~ Lovino scrunched his face up as he thought of a suitable number.

"Well, since the bike was pretty trashed, that'd be quite a bit… plus compensation for my job…"

"You got fired?" he asked incredulously, suddenly feeling very guilty.

"Well, yeah. And it's all your fault!" He then continued with his mental calculations while the pit of guilt grew deeper. So he was fired from his gazpacho delivery job? Aw… he really liked that gazpacho… the poor boy~!

"You look really cute when you're thinking, you know," He smiled innocently as Lovino's head shot up in alarm, his eyes boring holes in his skull as he silently questioned the Spaniard's sanity. "You're just like a little doll!"

"Is that something you should be saying to a guy, dammit?"

"Well, it's true~! What's being a guy got to do with anything?"

"You really are something…" Lovino sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head. "Exactly why Femke said we'd get along is beyond me…"

"You know Femke?"

"Well, yeah."

"Your girlfriend?"

"What? No! She's just a friend! A _friend_! Geez!" Oh, he was so so so cute when he was blushing~! Just like a tomato! He couldn't resist anymore. Leaning over the table, Antonio got hold of both those cheeks and squeezed them, almost melting at how soft they were. He could feel heat flare up in them before he was unceremoniously pushed back into his chair with a loud clatter.

"What the fuck are you doing? You don't just molest people's faces as you please, dammit! Geez, that fucking hurt! I don't care if you're giving me money, that kind of stuff is just-"

"Hey," Antonio interrupted, completely unfazed by Lovino's outburst. A new idea had just hit him, and it was just absolutely perfect, both for him and for Lovino's financial problems. It was a win-win situation!

"How would you like to be my lover?"

**Fratello [Italian]- brother  
Como mi abuela [Spanish]- Like my grandmother  
Mi mamá [Spanish]- My mom  
grand-mère [French]- Grandmother  
Mon frère [French]- My brother  
Dígame [Spanish]- (lit.) Tell me. How to answer the phone in Spanish  
¿De parte de quién? [Spanish]- Who is this?**

**And wait till China comes in O.o If I get anything wrong please tell me, since I'm relying on an online translator anyway :P Must stop saying che, meh, eh, larr and some other canto slang thingies… no I don't say aru. You wish xD**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! It makes my day to read them all!**

**Candied Sweets xD**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this is so late… stupid mocks are a pain…**

**On a happier note, it's almost Christmas! Christmas carols never get old… hehe :D How are you guys spending this special festive time? (slavishly typing ffs up… hehe jkjk)**

**Warnings: swearing, yaoi, non-English, cliché, my writing in general+minimal editing**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia… well I'd be awesome. And then I'd be Prussia :D**

_How would you like to be my lover?_

A pregnant pause ensued. Antonio was still grinning idiotically while Lovino's jaw unhooked itself from the rest of his face and was left dangling in surprise. He replayed those words, wondering if he'd heard wrong, or if maybe there was some joke he'd missed. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be.

"You bastard!" Lovino cried, slamming his hands onto the table as he stood up. The cutlery rattled loudly and the restaurant was suddenly silent. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm a _guy_! A _man_!"

Antonio was unfazed. "What's you being a guy got to do with anything? I was just asking if you wanted to be my lover~" He was cut off as Lovino grabbed his collar and dragged him towards him, glaring at him with such force it could crumble mountains. Antonio simply blinked innocently at him.

"Look here buster, you may be gay or bi or whatever, but don't bring me tumbling down to hell with you! I'm Catholic, for Pete's sake!"

Antonio blinked, obviously confused. "Wha… oh! You thought I meant be my real lover! Oh… you should've said so earlier, silly! Haha…"

Now it was Lovino's turn to be confused. The poor guy's brains had addled. That was the only explanation for the nonsense that was spouting from him. "If you didn't mean real lover, then what did you mean?"

"I mean," Antonio said, brushing his clothes off, "it's a job! I'll pay you for it!" He grinned, and the next thing he knew a fist had come in contact with his face and he was sent sprawling backwards into another table. "Ow… you have some arm there, chico,"

"You bastard!" He shouted again, towering over the Spaniard's crouched form. "You think I'm some prostitute or something? Paying me to be your lover? Go die in a hole!"

"Haha… I didn't mean it like _that_," Antonio chuckled, wincing as he got up, using the glass table to support himself. He rubbed his cheek sheepishly, then proceeded to explain himself. "Okay, so you see, _mi abuela_ has set me up on blind dates with tons of girls and frankly, it's boring, pointless, and just another way for her to control me." He pouted slightly before continuing, "So, if you want, you could pretend to be my 'gay lover' so I can throw them off!" He beamed expectantly at Lovino, who was just more confused than ever.

"Uh… so first off, what's an abwala thing?"

"_Abuela, _mi querido. My grandmother."

"Oh… and why don't you want to go on dates with girls? Are they butt ugly?"

"What? Butts aren't ugly…"

"Whatever. Are they ugly bitches?"

"No,"

"So you really are gay."

"No…"

"So why don't you want to go out with them?"

"Well, 'cause they're part of the big evil plan _de mi abuela _to get me married._"_

"Fuck, get married? Are you some billionaire bastard or something?"

"Uh… no."

There was an awkward silence between them… well, awkward for Lovino. Antonio was still smiling like there was no tomorrow; seriously, the guy had to have had plastic surgery or something to be able to smile so fucking much. Lovino rubbed his temples in frustration.

"I'm gonna order the pizza."

Antonio's eyes brightened, and with a childish air he exclaimed, "Ooh, with tomatoes please!"

"Idiot, when doesn't pizza have tomatoes? You're paying."

"Of course. My treat."

As they waited for the food to come, Antonio leaned over the table and looked into Lovino's eyes. The latter glared back, but he soon found himself absorbed in those emerald eyes. Their color never ceased to amaze him.

"So, you know Femke?"

"Uh… yeah."

"How? If she's not your girlfriend…"

"I told you, it's not like that, okay? How is this any of your business anyway?"

"_Lo siento_… I'm just curious. Isn't it a small world?"

Holding back the urge to snort in disbelief, Lovino went back to rubbing his temples.

"Are you stressed? It'll give you white hair, you know…"

"Well thanks for the info, Mr. Has-it-all-and-doesn't-give-a-fuck-if-he-throws-a-million-dollars-in-the-air." That was a bit longer than he had expected it to be, and it took a moment for him to regain his breath before he continued, "Besides, you'll be an old grandpa long before me. I bet you're at least double my age!"

"I'm only twenty-eight…" Lovino's jaw dropped while Antonio looked puzzled at his reaction. "What? Is that old…?"

"Th-well _yeah_! You're like a fucking granny! You're older than my _dad_, dammit!" Silently, he recalled his own age, twenty-three, and cursed. This guy was _only_ five years older than him? Now that was just messed up.

"E-eh? How old was your dad when you were born?" Lovino blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish as he grappled for a suitable answer. This guy… did he just take that seriously? He was such a fucking retard. Thankfully, the pizza came, and Lovino hungrily tore off a slice and started munching on it. Antonio followed suit a bit more gracefully, careful not to 'harm' the bountiful tomatoes on the pizza.

"So… lemme get this straight." Lovino said, mouth full with pizza dough and tomato sauce. He didn't bother to swallow his food before he talked; food was food wherever it was right? And who cared if other people lost their appetite? Anyway… "You want me to pretend to be your faggot lover so you can stop going on blind dates with some girls?"

"Mmhm."

He really wanted to just slam his hands onto the table, throw pizza in his face and shout _No fucking way, you asshole! Go screw yourself!_ Then he could bitch about waste of food…but… well, the guy had called it a job right? And he was paying. _Pride won't do you much good when you're on the streets, Lovi, _he reminded himself, and he swallowed his protests.

"Fine. But for each outing, I want one thousand Euros."

"One thousand? That's a lot…"

"Five hundred then," he frowned at the reluctance on the Spaniard's face. "Three hundred?"

"One hundred," Antonio said, holding up his index finger. Lovino had the heart to stick his middle finger up at him. It was longer, after all! _That's what she said. _Shut up. "I'm already paying for your motorcycle, after all."

"Fine, but then you have to pay separately for touching each body part."

"Body part?"

"Yeah! You think I'm going to let a child rapist like you molest me as you please?"

"I'm not a child rapist…"

"Touch my head," Lovino continued, ignoring Antonio's protests, "fifteen. Face and shoulders, twenty-five. Back, forty."

"Is there a need to pay that much?"

"Hands on my shoulders… fifty-five. Hugs are eighty, and a kiss…" He trailed off and glanced at the suddenly hopeful Spaniard. Dude, since when did people have eyes as green as that? He swallowed. "I'll stop there. I'll stop there."

"Aw… and here I was thinking that I'd get permission to kiss those cute lips of yours~!"

"F-fuck… what's your problem? Stop looking so goddamn innocent, will you?"

"Am I looking innocent?" He started feeling up his face as if there was something on it. Lovino sighed.

"How long is this gonna take? I need to get to my next job soon!"

"Okay, so scooter repair fees, four hundred…" He pulled out the bills from his shiny black wallet… oh, how Lovino wanted a wallet like that. It was the wallet of a man, dammit! Plus it showed you were rich! All Lovino had was some ratty purse that looked like some messed up old woman's clothes that had been hacked apart then hastily patched together. "And I'll pay the rest later."

"Advance."

"I'm sorry?"

"I want the money in advance,"

"¿Por qué?"

"If you're going to speak Spanish, go to fucking Spain and do it, not here. And because I…" He paused, his next words tasting sour on his tongue. "I need it urgently. I-if you don't give me an advance, I… I won't do it." He looked at his lap, feeling slightly embarrassed at the situation he had landed himself in. This was no different from begging. Since when had they descended to this level?

He heard the chair scraping, and he looked up just in time to see Antonio's arms wrapping around his skinny frame, bringing Lovino's head to rest on his chest. He was surprised out of his daze and remained in his embrace for a few moments as he tried to figure out what was going on. Antonio was warm… and his arms felt so strong as they hugged him close. Plus he smelled nice… wait, what?

He pushed him away quickly, feeling the heat rushing to his cheeks. People were staring, and he could feel their eyes boring into his back. "W-what the fuck was that? Y-you owe me eighty bucks, b-bastard!"

"Ah, I just thought you needed a hug~! You looked so sad just then, but now you're not! So it worked, right? Haha…"

"S-shuddap! You don't just go h-hugging guys in public, dammit! It gives people ideas!"

"So I can do it in private?"

"N-no! Of course not! You just can't hug me, okay? Period."

"Are you on your period?"

For some reason unknown even to himself, Lovino found this highly entertaining and ended up laughing his insides out. He couldn't stop, and it was only when his ribs were hurting and tears started sparkling in his eyes that he managed to calm down. "A-am I on my period? Oh, that's hilarious…" He wiped a tear away and clutched his sides as he chuckled a bit more. "Geez, you really are an airhead."

"If you're not on your period, why did you say you were?"

"Period is a full stop, idiot. Punctuation."

Antonio blinked. "Oh~! I thought you meant… oh right, you're a guy!"

His scowl came back. "Don't tell me you just noticed."

"No, it's not that… you look cute when you smile, you know. You should smile more."

The scowl didn't go away, sadly. "Then I'll continue frowning until the end of the world."

"That'll just motivate me to make you smile more, _mi tomate pequeño~"_

"What did you just call me? A tomato?"

"_Sí_. You're very much like one." Lovino flushed, and oh he was so very _cute_~! It was a perfect description of him!

"B-bastard… is that an insult or something?"

"What? Of course not! Tomatoes are… well, they're the best things in the world! How could anything about tomatoes be an insult?"

"Oh right, I forgot you're Spanish." He wouldn't admit that he loved tomatoes too because that would mean he had something in common with Antonio and that would mean that Femke was right in thinking they would get along well and that would mean… uh… well he just didn't want to get all with this bastard! "S-so, do we have a deal or not? Take it or leave it."

Antonio sighed, and dug around his pockets for something. This baffled Lovino seeing as his wallet was already lying on the table (_Take it and run~_), so what was he looking for now? Then he saw the flash of a screen.

Before he could react, Antonio had whipped out his phone and snapped a picture of him looking completely confused. Grinning, he stowed the device away and lunged for his wallet without a word of explanation.

"W-what the heck was that?"

"Your mug shot," the Spaniard said cheerfully, counting out the money and handing it to him. "So that's… one hundred plus the eighty."

"What the fuck do you need a mug shot for?"

"In case you run off with the money. And to stalk your wonderfully adorable face~!" No one, _no one_, could have said something so sinister while making it sound as innocent as Antonio had. It was seriously freaky… who knew what other creepy stuff he could pull off? Lovino shuddered; he had just sold his soul to the fucking devil… a devil with crazy hot eyes and a sexy body… covered in tomatoes… Mm, that didn't sound too bad!

He so did not just think that.

"I'm not going to run off with the money, dammit! I'm not some thief, okay?"

"Whatever you say, _mi querido_. Would you like a ride back?"

"Fuck yeah! I came all the way here for you, best you can do is show some gratitude, you tomato bastard!"

"Alright then~!"

They finished off their pizza and left the shop. Lovino hastily brushed the notes in his pocket, making sure they were still there, before hurrying to catch up with Antonio. Damn, couldn't he slow down? Just 'cause he was tall didn't mean he could walk so much faster than Lovino's _slightly _shorter legs could manage. They rounded the corner and Antonio dug out his car keys which unlocked…

A Ferrari. A _red_ one.

Lovino died. Sure, he'd gotten mad that he was able to drive while he had to walk but he hadn't _actually _expected that he'd _actually _have a Ferrari, and a red one to boot! Come on, life was so unfair! Why did _he _have to scrub floors while this guy got a fucking _red _Ferrari? _Red_!

_Just like a tomato~_

"Er… you're drooling,"

"Shut up! Exceptions must be made when in the presence of such holiness!"

"Holiness? I thought you were Catholic?"

"Exceptions, you bastard! Where did you get a car like that?"

Antonio shrugged. "Some random place… I could give it to you if you want." Lovino turned his oogle-attention to him.

"You were so reluctant to give me a hundred bucks, yet you're gonna give me a fucking hot _red_ Ferrari? _For free_?"

"Well no, you'd have to pay me back…"

"Che! You think I can afford something like that?"

"You could pay me back over a long time…" He shrugged again and opened the passenger door, motioning for Lovino to get in. Dazedly, he fell into the shiny black seat and closed the door behind him. Antonio got in next to him and put the key in ignition. The engines flared to life and it was all Lovino could do to prevent a near-fatal spaz attack from happening.

"Oh right, I never got to know your name! I'm Antonio Fernández Carriedo~!" He held out a hand, but it took Lovino a few moments to process what he had said. When he did, he quickly swatted the hand away.

"Bastard! I already know that! You gave me your business card, remember?"

"Oh right~! Silly me…" He laughed softly, and Lovino couldn't help thinking, _he looks good when he smiles. _"So, what's your name?"

He chewed his bottom lip, debating whether or not to give it to him. _Might as well_. "Lovino Vargas."

"Lovino? That's such a cute name! Nice to meet you, Lovi!"

"D-don't call me that!"

"Why not? It's cute~! You can call me Toni if you want,"

"T-there's _no way_ I'm ever going to call you that, bastard!"

"Aw… not even Antonio?"

He swiveled in his seat and glared at him so harshly he whimpered. "_Spagna_,"

"Eh? Why Spain?"

"'Cause you're fucking Spanish, that's why."

"Can I call you Italy then? But Lovi sounds so much cuter… it's like 'love' with an i…"

"Fuck no!"

"Alright then," He sighed, and Lovino made the mistake of glaring at him. That kicked puppy face of his was _so… _hard to resist, damn it! Argh!

"Lovino. You can call me Lovino, okay? _Not _Lovi or some other gay nickname you come up with."

"Yay! Thank you, Lovi~!"

"_Lovino! _Not Lovi, _Lovino! _Loh-vee-no! Damn Spagna…"

"Sí, sí," He shifted the gears and backed out of the car park, leaning over the seat and propping his elbow on the top of it to get a better view of the back of the car. That was pretty normal, usually, but no, luck had to curse him as the side of Antonio's white shirt rode up slightly, giving Lovino a full-on view of his perfectly tanned side and abdomen.

"Shit!" He squirmed and tried to hide his quickly reddening cheeks, _no, _he wasn't embarrassed! He was… just really hot. Yeah. The roof was down, dammit! And it was noon!

Unfortunately, during his squirming, he accidently kicked the stereo and some horrible sounding Spanish music blared out of the radio. Antonio fell back into his seat in surprise, looking between the Italian and the radio. "Oh, ¿te gusta Chenoa?"

"What? No, that just came on by accident! As if I would ever listen to your country's lame excuse for music!" He scrabbled to turn it off, but Antonio kept his hand on the power button as he happily sung along to the lyrics. Lovino _happily _blocked out the noise, happier to listen to the fascinating sounds the car was making while it made its way across the gravel in favor of listening to the obnoxious Spanish flowing into his ears next to him. Although it did sound very much like Italian… geez they were such copycats!

Suddenly Antonio leaned in and started singing in Lovino's ear, his hot breath brushing his earlobe. Refusing to listen to such shit, he quickly clamped both hands over his ears, loudly spouting nonsense to one, drown out the music, and two, annoy the Spaniard. It didn't seem to work though, because Antonio started laughing, a pleasant, musical giggle that temporarily froze Lovino's brain, before he smacked the Spaniard upside the head and yelled at him indignantly.

Miraculously, they did not crash into any cars while childishly fighting over which music they would listen to. When this had gotten tiresome, Lovino demanded to drive the angel of a car, and after some protesting he succeeded in taking over the wheel. Antonio had taken this opportunity to undo his seatbelt, stand up on his seat, and wave at the passing cars (who looked at him like he was a complete idiot). Lovino shouted at him, telling him to get down, but he was ignored; he continued to holler at people, laughing amicably as one waved back. Suddenly, Lovino was laughing too; perhaps it was the way the wind whipped at his hair or the complete silliness of the situation, but either way, he was happier than he had been in weeks, feeling the stress of work and money lifting off his shoulders. They drove back in this manner, and soon they reached the neighborhood where Lovino lived.

"Ooh, is that your house?" Antonio asked, pointing at a small house in the corner. It was normal looking enough, except for the giant Italian flag waving around the roof. Lovino grimaced, he had always told Julian to take it down, it was really stupid and the flag was bigger than their fucking house, dammit! But then of course, unless under threat of hitting or castration, his old man would never listen to him.

"No, it's your mom's," Lovino replied sarcastically, parking on the sidewalk and hopping onto the sidewalk.

"Qué? ¿Mi mamá? Of course it's not, silly, my mother lives on the other side of town! Unless she got a new house…" He looked up in thought, and Lovino facepalmed.

"He took it seriously…"

"Did you say something?"

"Yeah! You're a fucking bastard, that's what I said!"

"Haha, love you too Lovi~!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Haha… of course, my mistake~" He patted Lovino's head lightly before his hand was shoved off and the Italian started storming off.

"Eh? Where are you going?"

"Whaddya think? I'm going home,"

"Already? I thought maybe I could meet your parents…"

"Why the fuck would you want to do that?"

"I am your lover, after all~"

"W-what? Of course you're not! I'm only pretending, remember?"

"Ah yes, it's all in the interest of pretense, I assure you,"

"No!"

Antonio pouted the puppy face again, and Lovino groaned. Damn this guy and his ridiculous facial expressions!

"I'm telling you, it won't work!"

"Oh well, it was worth a try… can I get your phone number then? You know mine~!"

"No! You'll stalk me or something… and besides, I threw your card away already." That was a lie. It was still buried in his desk… 'cause he liked the paper. It was shiny! And black! Maybe if he collected enough, he could make a shiny black wallet! Yeah…

"Well that is too bad… oh well~ I'll see you on Saturday then, kay?"

Lovi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"¡Adios, mi Lovinito!"

"It's _Lovino _to you! Stupid Spagna…"

The last thing he heard was Antonio's musical laugh before he took off down the street towards his _way _too conspicuous house. That guy was like a fucking model… why the heck was he so fucking perfect? Damn it, he was jealous. Yes. Just jealous. He wanted to have life as easy as him… with his red Ferrari and nice body…

He almost tripped over a rock in the process of pounding that thought out of his mind.

**~.::~Francis~::.~**

"Chef!"

"Yes, mon cher?" Francis whirled around, still licking sauce off his finger in the most sensual way known to mankind. The man who had called for him blushed, averting his eyes from the scene.

"There's someone outside to see you."

"Quoi? Is it a very beautiful yet angry maiden, may I ask?"

"Uh… beautiful, yes, angry… I don't think so."

"Ah, then that is fine. Thank you, could you take over for a bit?"

"No problem," Francis swept out of the kitchen, taking his hat off and placing it on his desk and straightening his clothes before going out to the doors.

"Hello, mon cher! How may Monsieur Bonnefoy help you~?" He froze at the sight of the person standing at the doors. That brown hair and ribbon… he would recognize them anywhere. The smile disappeared from his face like water draining out of a glass as the person turned.

"Francis," Femke smiled weakly, rubbing a can of coffee between her gloved hands. By the looks of it, she had been crying, and right now she was chewing her bottom lip in apprehension. "It's… good to see you again."

"Likewise," he replied stiffly, not moving from his spot next to the door. Femke looked down at her feet, and they stayed quiet for a few moments before she offered him another can of coffee. He accepted it without saying anything.

"So… how are you?" Femke finally asked nervously, chancing a peek at the Frenchman. He didn't move except to reply, "'Bout the same,"

"I broke up with Nikolaas," she breathed quickly, averting her eyes once more. Francis grunted. "I… I was wondering if… well, if we could start over."

"I need to get back," Francis interrupted, making for the door. He was stopped, however, by Femke's hand grasping onto his sleeve, hanging on as if it were her lifeline. "Please, don't leave."

He whirled round to face her full on, the previously concealed anger now brimming in his eyes. "Femke, what the hell are you doing here?" She was a little taken aback by the question, but she replied confidently and a little stubbornly; "To see my friends and family, of course. This is my home, why can't I be here?"

"No, why are you _here_? As in, right _here_?"

She sighed and took a step closer, looking up at his blue eyes with her green ones. He took a step back, much to her dismay, so she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "I'm here to see you, Francis. I want to start over."

He slapped her hand away, looking almost disgusted. It looked so unnatural on his face… the face that was always smiling that perverted smile and trying to grope anyone within a ten-mile radius. No, that look of disgust was reserved for his victims, not for the criminal. Coming from him, it was like being shot hundreds of times over.

"It was really sudden when you left, you know. You were there one moment, and gone the other. And when you come back, it's still really sudden. It's been four years, Femke. _Four years_. You don't call, you don't write, hell, you can't even be bothered to run a little word by Antonio. And now you just suddenly want to start over?"

"Francis, that's the way it's been with you for years!"

"At least I didn't just walk out on you with no explanation, no note, no nothing! Do you know how long I waited for you to come back, only to find out that you've hooked up with someone else? At least I have the decency to properly end things with people before running off. I don't just leave it hanging for _four fucking years!_"

"Francis, I-"

"And, I don't like this drink anymore." He gave her the can back, not bothering to hide the forcefulness in the action. "Goodbye, Femke."

And he was gone, fighting back those useless tears as he stormed back to the kitchen. Why was he feeling this way? He had broken up with countless people, or they had broken up with him, whatever. He shouldn't be getting so emotional over one, insignificant little breakup! It was completely pointless!

Still… his heart hurt so much… it had been so long since it had throbbed like that. Seriously… he had missed her…

**Chico [Spanish]- boy  
Mi pequeño tomate [Spanish]- my small tomato  
Mi querido [Spanish]- my beloved  
¿por qué? [Spanish]- why?  
Spagna [Italian]- Spain  
te gusta Chenoa? [Spanish] – You like Chenoa? (the only Spanish singer I know. Sorry :P)**

**Sorry for the overload of Spanish… my mind is functioning in semi-Spanish mode for my mocks =.= Are the accents and upside down question marks annoying? 'Cause if they are I'll stop :P**

**Was France OOC? 'Cause I figure he really loved Belgium, so he was really hurt after their makeshift breakup. But I dunno… would he be that aggressive…? O.o**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thank you very much to Yuu-chi for pointing out that _half of this chapter _was _missing _for the better part of a month... missing parts included THE KISS SCENE. Anyway, it's up now ahah :P Sorry for the inconvenience. **

**Warnings: swearing, gayness, religious homophobia. And my 2-in-the-morning writing. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own. **

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

"Ve~ nii-chan's back!"

"Fratello, okay Feli?" Lovino grimaced as he kicked his shoes off. "Not nii-chan or whatever. You're Italian, so start speaking it!" He walked past his brother who was currently comparing 'nii-chan' with 'fratello' and wondering which one sounded better. Almost immediately, he was tackled to the ground by none other than the idiot that was his father.

"Lovi~! You're back early!"

"Mmph, get off me!" he yelled, rolling him off in annoyance. "Goddamn it Julian, go lose some weight or something. You're fucking heavy!"

"Language!" came Feliciano's voice.

"Shut up Feli! What are you, my mom?"

"Pfft, you should listen to him, Lovi," Julian pouted, crossing his arms. "Or I'll have to wash your mouth of all those dirty expletives!" He then conjured a bar of soap out of nowhere and attempted to stuff it in Lovino's mouth. Thus the fight between mouth and soap ensued.

"I'm not going to stop fucking swearing so will you fucking get that fucking soap out of my fucking face!" he finally yelled, clamping a hand over his mouth and taking off into his room.

He emerged a few minutes later, warily looking around before making his way to the dining table. Feliciano was happily humming a tune while doodling in his sketchpad; he had always been the little artist of the family. Lovino sat down next to him, twiddling his thumbs. After a while, he pulled out their accounts book and started jotting down notes.

_Owed:_

_Bike fees: 400  
Ring: 200  
Rent: 250_ + _400  
Total: €1250_

_Paid:_

_Bike: 400  
Rent: 250  
To pay: 600_

He looked in dismay at the 600, which seemed to smile tauntingly at him. Even if they used the one-eighty he'd weaseled out from Antonio today, there was still four hundred!

"Let's see, self defense classes gives me five per hour… and I teach three classes…" he scribbled that down, "Sewing eyes on dolls, ten a bag… peeling chestnuts, three…"

"Lovi, are you still worried about the money we owe?" Julian inquired as he set their food down on the table. He looked over his shoulder at the numbers Lovino was writing down, and blanched at the tantalizing number of money they still owed. "T-that much?"

"Bastard, this is _your _fault! If you never lost the ring in the first place, we wouldn't have to pay all that money!" he shouted, stabbing the two hundred with the end of his pen. Julian frowned. "But if you didn't break the bike, we wouldn't have to pay that four hundred… Ah! I'm sorry! Don't hit me!"

'Fuck you, that's an all time low, Julian," Lovino growled, snapping the book shut and sticking it back into his pocket. He eyed the steaming rice and muttered, "I already ate. And what is that? It looks like someone's barf,"

"Eh? Don't be mean Lovi, it's risotto!" Feliciano chirped, helping himself to a plateful. "Mm… papa's cooking is as good as ever!"

"Naw, thank you Feli~! You're as cute as ever~" Julian cooed, pinching his younger son's cheeks. Lovino scowled… what was it with people calling _grown men_ cute? First it was that bastard calling him a _tomato, _dammit, and now his old man calling Feliciano, seventeen going onto eighteen, cute! They weren't little babies or chicks or something! Calling a man cute was going to hurt his self esteem… or in Feli's case, render him senseless to the point that he actually thought he _was_ cute. 'Cause… er… he wasn't! Not at all!

"Well duh I know it's risotto. Risotto just doesn't usually look like something someone barfed out," He frowned into his coffee and leaned back in his chair, humming softly. He then proceeded to almost spill hot beverage all over himself as his family abruptly leaned in and eyed him suspiciously.

"Lovi's in a suspiciously good mood," Julian mused.

"Ve~"

"What happened? I command you to speak~!" he said dramatically, waving a hand in the air for effect. Lovi smacked him over the head. "Stupid, you've been watching too much theater crap. I'm not in a good mood!"

"You didn't swear while complaining about food," Feliciano said, as if that explained everything. Lovino looked baffled and blinked at him; obviously he had no idea what his brother was talking about, but next to him Julian nodded in agreement and they high-fived.

"So, tell us," Julian said, pinching his son's cheeks, "What has our dear Lovi in such a good mood?"

"Nothing!"

"Is it a girl? That Femke girl?"

"What? No! What the hell, Julian!"

"Then… oh I know! You found pasta~!"

-Awkward pause-

"You're an idiot," Lovino stated shortly, getting up and brushing himself off. Julian pouted as he racked his brains for what else could have his son so happy. Feli, on the other hand, was pretty sure what it was. Mouth full of rice, he chirped,

"Ve~ Nii-chan got a job~"

"Oh, is that it?" Julian asked, a little disappointed. "I thought it would be something more… exciting! Ahh! I'm sorry! Don't hit me!"

"Well, I'm sorry for boring you," Lovino spat, "But it's not like you're any better! Geez, Julian. I'm going out for a bit,"

"Eh, but you didn't eat anything!"

"I'm full!" he shouted over his shoulder before slipping out the door. Julian frowned, looking worriedly at the door.

"He's so strange these days… maybe I _am _too hard on him?"

Feli didn't answer, finding the pasta much too interesting to think up of a proper response. The pout deepened and Julian threw his hands in the air exasperatedly and sighed before heading back to the kitchen to get another bowl of food

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Lovino found that lately, his walks were becoming increasingly frequent and longer. He guessed it was because the stress was building up and the cold was perfect for a bad headache. Plus it cleared his mind.

No, Lovino Vargas was _not _becoming old.

He just enjoyed his walks, that's all! Geez!

Anyway, he was kicking at the dirt when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open, not too surprised to see Femke's name flashing across the screen. Although he had been half hoping it'd be Antonio…

B-Because… he might have some more money on him! Yeah!

S-shut up…

So he pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear. "Hey Femke,"

"L-Lovi?" Her voice was wavering and the sniffle confirmed his theory: she had been crying. Again. Who was the bastard this time? "Uh… a-are you free right now?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow. "Sure…"

"C-could you… come over, please?"

Oh he was going to kill the douchebag that made her cry. It was that French guy, wasn't it? That stupid bastard had broken Femke's heart so many times… flirting with other girls right in front of her, teasing her all the time, never making any time for his own girlfriend, instead choosing to get drunk and laid with his friends… even after they had broken up he still continued to nag her…

"Lovi?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll come over. Be patient, woman!"

There was a strained chuckle on the other side of the phone, followed by a quiet sniff, then she hung up. Sighing, Lovino closed his phone, returned it to his pocket, and started the walk to Femke's house.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Lovino was baking a cake.

Yes, a cake. Apparently Femke had felt the sudden urge to bake something and just happened to have enough ingredients for a cake. And because she felt lonely, she got Lovino to bake it with her.

Sometimes that girl's sanity was questionable. No, not sometimes. Always.

Anyway, Lovino could cook awesome things like pasta and pizza and tomatoes and… other stuff, but he _did not _bake cakes.

It was sissy. And gay.

Which was why he was currently fanning at the stove while trying to put out the fire on the burnt black thing.

"Lovi- what happened?" Femke came rushing into the kitchen and hurriedly shooed Lovino away while she put out the flames. Lovino threw her the mittens and she quickly pulled the tray out of the stove and into the water filled sink. Vapor filled the room and they let out a sigh of relief, until Femke noticed the mitts were on fire. And that caused more panic.

Which ended in the kitchen almost being burned down.

"I told you I couldn't bake for life," Lovino grumbled as he scrubbed the bowl free of burnt cake. Instead of scolding him for burning her mittens and stove and nearby things, she laughed cheerily, leaning back in her chair as she sipped orange juice.

"Hm, I thought you were just being modest. We wasted loads of ingredients there…"

"Well it's your fault for forcing me in the first place! Geez!"

She giggled again and set down her glass, scraping off the last bits of burnt cake from the pan with a wooden spoon. It made a high-pitched squeaky sound against the metal, and Lovino flinched and grabbed her wrist to stop her. She looked up at him confusedly before setting down the spoon and sighing.

"H-hey F-Femke… did something h-happen, or something?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Because well, you were crying on the phone… dammit…"

She didn't respond immediately, but instead picked the spoon up again and dragged it across the pan, her eyes fixed on the tabletop.

"I went to find Francis."

"What? Again? Why?"

"I-I wanted to start again… and I thought… if I apologized…" she paused and bit her lip, still staring fixedly at the table. "I thought if I apologized, he'd take me back again… b-but he… he… he didn't…" Now her eyes were getting wet, and she wiped a tear away impatiently with the back of her hand.

"Doesn't matter anyway, I obviously don't d-deserve him, right? A-and… think about what I d-did to him… a-anyone would have been mad…" And then the tears flowed freely, rolling down her cheeks as she suppressed a sob. Feeling embarrassed, Lovino slowly got up from his chair and went over to her to awkwardly lay his hand over hers as he tried to calm her down.

"Femke, d-don't you waste anymore time on that bastard, okay? You did _nothing _wrong, he's the one who should be all upset and shit. C-come on, don't cry for _him_. What kind of a bastard makes a girl cry… eh?"

"But I miss him so much!" Femke sobbed, grasping both his hands in hers and burying her face in them. "D-do you know how he _looked _at me? How disgusted he was?"

"Well then, h-he's a jerk. No one should l-look disgusted at y-you, right?"

"Lovi, do you think I'll ever have a chance to get back with him?"

"H-have you been listening to me at all? This jerk broke your heart ten times over, a-and you still want to be with him?" Femke nodded jerkily on his hands, and it took all his self-control not to make a face at the tears that were running into them.

_Fuck that French bastard._

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

The night was silent, save for the sound of rushing water from the fountain in the garden, and the occasional burp of the frogs. Antonio smiled fondly at his tomato plants; only shoots at the moment, but growing well and soon to be perfectly round red delicious fruits. Or vegetables. Take your pick.

The door behind him opened and Antonio turned to smile at Gilbert who was clutching a can of beer in his hand. As usual. The albino grinned and sat down next to his friend on the porch, taking a brief sip from the can before muttering, "You, my friend, need some better beer,"

"Haha… lo siento… I don't drink as much beer as you,"

"Damn right you don't. There's no way anyone could drink more beer than the awesome me."

"No, of course not," Antonio replied good naturedly, already too used to his friend's overblown ego to care. "But I heard Matthew managed to beat you by… what was it? Five glasses?"

"What? Of course not!" Gilbert quickly denied, proving his point by taking another swig from his can. "It was… only two?"

"So he _did _beat you!"

"I was being awesome and let him win. God knows the little birdie needs some help with his self-esteem issues," He cackled for a short while before finishing the beer and throwing it into the bin across the porch. "Oh! Score! I want another one... you're coming with me to the store Toni,"

"Pfft, at least finish the beer in the fridge," Antonio complained, but Gilbert was having none of that. He pulled the Spaniard up by his armpits before dragging him towards the fence. "That is not beer, my friend. It is… piss! Yes, you have cans of piss in you fridge! We need to get you proper drinks!"

"Eh? Seriously? But… weren't you just drinking it?"

Cue eye roll. "There's a cow in the sky,"

"Qué? Dondé?" And while he was busy searching the dark sky for a flying cow, Gilbert had managed to drag him across the yard and out onto the road, chuckling quietly under Antonio's repeated: "Dondé está la vaca? Dondé?"

"English, Toni. English."

"Right… hey, why are we on the road?"

"We're getting beer, remember?"

"Oh right… 'cause you were drinking piss or something…"

"Exactly! So just follow the awesome me and we'll get proper _German _beer!"

"Can we get wine too? Oh and sangria! We should get Francis over!"

"_Awesome_! Bad Friends Drink Fest again~ kesesese!"

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

Saturday rolled by way too quickly. And now Lovino found himself standing in front of the bus stop, hands stuffed in his pockets and praying to god that this wouldn't end up becoming a molest-some-Italian-ass session. What? This could be Red Riding Hood all over agin! As far as he knew, _Spagna _could very well be some wolf thing in a human costume!

Yeah…

He checked the address again. It was some hotel with a fancy looking name in the richest part of the city, so naturally Lovino didn't know where it was. Not 'cause he was poor! 'Cause… he didn't like mingling with rich bastards!

The bus arrived and Lovino quickly clambered on, dropping a few coins into the box before slinking off to the back and sitting down next to a window. His hand wrapped around the pepper spray in his pocket that he had nicked off Femke, seeing as he was so convinced the stupid Spaniard would rape him or something. As if he'd ever let that happen! He laughed silently at how clever he was before shutting his mouth when the lady next to him glared at him like he was crazy.

The bus reached his destination an hour later, and Lovino hopped off, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings. Damn, these buildings sure looked fancy…

It took a little asking around and walking in circles before he found the hotel, thirty minutes late. Antonio was leaning against the wall of the hotel, looking like some cool bastard in _another _fucking suit, not even noticing when Romano appeared in front of him sweaty and panting.

Because he was, in fact, sleeping.

Yes, the Spanish bastard had fallen asleep against a hotel wall in the blaring sunlight, while wearing a _suit_ (did he mention that yet?), of all things, (damn, wasn't he hot? I-in a… a TEMPERATURE sense! Geez, what were you thinking?) while waiting for Lovino.

And he was supposed to be the lazy one?

Scowling, he slinked up to the sleeping figure and shook him hard on the shoulder. When that didn't work he took a deep breath and yelled into his ear. Instead of jerking awake like he had hoped, Antonio blearily opened one eye, sleepily staring forward before opening the other eye and turning _so fucking slowly _towards the direction of the sound.

"Oh, Lovino! Hola!"

"Don't 'hola' me, you bastard! How did you manage to fall asleep _here _of all places?"

"Mmhm, well I was tired! Haha~" He looked down at his watch, eyes widening slightly. "Haha Lovi… you're thirty minutes late…"

"W-well that's 'cause it took you thirty minutes to wake up, bastard!" he lied, blushing slightly. "Well? What do you need me to do?"

Antonio straightened himself off the wall and regarded Lovino's appearance: bed hair that had been too troublesome to fix, a loose hoodie with a faded Italian flag across the chest, worn jeans with a tear at the left knee, and sneakers.

"I thought Italians were supposed to be fashionable?"

Blinking in confusion, Lovino looked down at himself before blushing a deeper shade of scarlet and punching the Spaniard in the arm. "S-Shut up! It's not like I can afford super expensive stuff like you!"

"Hm… well… it's not like I don't think you look good or anything, Lovi, 'cause you do, haha… but I think the occasion calls for something more formal, don't you think?"

"Why the fuck do you need to wear a suit when you're meeting some girls?"

"Mm… well I'm not saying you have to wear a _suit_, but something more…" He waved his hand at the torn jeans, biting his lower lip, "you know. Something…"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you're paying."

Antonio did his own little eye roll. "Well of course I am. It's not like I'm paying you tons of money already."

"You hired me, remember? Learn to take responsibilities for your actions bastard," How did the bastard expect him to buy some expensive suit when he had barely enough money for the bus trip home? But Antonio didn't argue (ha, outsmarted the smartass!), instead just grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him across the driveway and onto the road. Caught by surprise, Lovino swatted at the tanned fingers that had wrapped around his wrist, with no avail, so he resorted to shooting colorful curses at the selectively deaf and way too smiley Spaniard.

"Hey bastard, I thought we were late?"

"They can wait a few more minutes," Antonio replied cheerfully, coming to a stop in front of a clothing store with a fancy sliding door and loads of fancy and expensive looking suits on gay looking mannequins. What? Any man who stood with his hand on his hand and a leg jutting out like that _had _to be gay.

But still, he couldn't help but (mentally) drool at the complete _exquisiteness _of the suits, because as much as he wouldn't admit it, Lovino had always loved suits, had loved them from the first time he'd tried one when he was a child, and once more at his high school prom (a cheap rented one, but still!). Had it not been for their financial situation, he would be wearing suits every single day because damn, did he look hot in them. Better than the worn out hoodie he was wearing anyway. He suddenly felt rather self-conscious.

"A-are we going in _there_? Can you even afford stuff like that?"

"Well of course! It is just one suit anyway~" Antonio grinned, pulling Lovino into the store. He was immediately attacked by that new-clothes smell and bright lighting, before a lady popped up in front of them and said cheerfully, "Welcome, Mr. Fernández Carriedo. How may we be of service today?"

_Holy mother of God they knew his name!_ Bastard never ceased to amaze. He could only ogle blankly at the woman as Antonio replied in the same chipper voice, "Could you help him pick out a suit please, Elena? Hm…" He cast a look at me, and he could feel himself heating up again at how underdressed he was. "Not anything too formal, yes? More on the casual side, I think… would you like that, Lovi?"

"It's Lovino…" he muttered darkly under my breath, but quickly nodded. "Sure. Whatever,"

The lady continued smiling as we made our decision, then quickly led him over to an assortment of dress shirts and took a few out for him to choose. He awkwardly took a couple from the selection, noticing Antonio settle down on one of the couches in the corner of his eye. Because he totally wasn't looking at him, dammit!

He quickly changed, aware that it was already forty-five minutes after he was supposed to meet Antonio. He buttoned up the white shirt, fumbling with the navy tie for a while before slipping it round his neck. The jacket went next, and finally the pants, which he took a moment to admire because damn if he hadn't been wanting to wear such new and formal looking pants for, well, all his life? Something like that.

He regarded his appearance in the mirror and _totally _did not squeal like a girl, because _damn_, he looked _great_. This suit made him so damn handsome! Like a fucking lady killer! In a… non-rapist sense, because Lovino Vargas was _not _a rapist. That was just some seriously messed up shit. And with that contaminating his thoughts, he turned away from the mirror and pushed the door open. Antonio was sitting on one of the couches, hands splayed out behind him as he leaned backward to stare at the white ceiling. Lovino felt a light blush come up to his cheeks as he looked at the Spaniard's relaxed and peaceful smile. Then he quickly turned away and threw his clothes at him.

Surprised with a faceful of sweater, Antonio peeled the clothes off his face and turned to look at Lovino. His eyes widened upon seeing him in the suit, staring at him unabashedly for a few moments before smiling and saying, "Lovi, you look nice,"

"S-shut up and pay for the clothes already!" The blush darkened as he shifted self-consciously, staring fixedly at the tiled floor. "We're going to be late, bastard!"

And so Antonio chuckled and went to pay for the suit, looking amusedly at Lovino's pale face when he saw the price tag. Spluttering incoherently, he was dragged out of the shop by the arms and to the hotel. Antonio led him to a café in the building, standing behind a wall as he peered into the room.

"S-so… how are we… doing this?" Lovino asked anxiously, wringing his hands behind his back. Antonio leaned back in and took Lovino to a corner right in front of the entrance, casting looks over his shoulder the whole time. Then he smiled nervously at him and said quietly,

"Stay here, okay? I'll be right back,"

Lovino was about to protest but Antonio was already gone, walking into the café like nobody's business. He stopped at a table, laughing sheepishly as he said some words to the irritated looking girl and sat down. Lovino sighed and slumped against the wall, dreading what was to come.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

The first round of Operation Anti-lover started ten minutes later, when Lovino suddenly found himself pushed up against a wall, a hand against his shoulder. Shocked, he looked up to see none other than Antonio, looking apprehensively towards the café, his face just inches away.

Immediately, Lovino burst into such a dark blush he thought his face might explode. Swearing, he tried to push the Spaniard away, but he didn't budge as he turned to face the Italian. Lovino could feel his warm breath on his cheek, smelling of coffee and tomatoes. It is not necessarily a bad smell, but Lovino still wrinkled his nose up as he continued to shove against him.

"Ahah~ sorry about that, Lovi… but she's coming. Don't move, okay?"

And before Lovino could protest, Antonio's lips were but centimeters from his own, his head tilted slightly to the right as his hands kept Lovino's own head in place. Just as well, as he might have jerked forward in shock. And then even God wouldn't be able to help him after that. Lovino's eyes flew open , shaking as he sucked in a deep breath, his face hot enough to boil water. Figuratively, obviously.

"W-w-what the f-fuck do you think you're doing, b-bastard?" he hissed quietly, careful not to move his lips too much. "G-get off me!"

Antonio looked at him sheepishly, and once again Lovino was struck by how beautifully- uh… weirdly, what beautiful? What on earth are you talking about? Anyway, his eyes were really a very _weird _shade of green. Wow. Lovino had never noticed the gold flecks in them. That was really _weird_.

"I promise I won't do anything to you, okay Lovi? Please, just play along, okay?"

And then suddenly his lips were pursed and parted slightly, still dangerously close to Lovino's, and he tilted his head to the right and started to "kiss" him, always keeping his lips separated from Lovino's. He slowly tilted his head back to the left, maybe to make it look more realistic, maybe on instinct, whatever.

But all Lovino could think about was that his blush was darkening even more,_ if that was fucking possible_; he could fucking feel his tomato breath on his lips, dammit! Antonio's other hand was still on his shoulder, and he body had moved closer to pin Lovino to the wall. And his heart was beating so fast, ramming itself against his ribcage again and again, _thump thump thump, _and suddenly Lovino's eyes swiveled to rest on Antonio's lips. They looked so pink, so soft, and they were so close…

"Bastard!"

Lovino was suddenly assaulted by a leather something and Antonio was pulled off him. Blinking in surprise, he came to face a curly haired girl, who was looking at them furiously as she raised her handbag again. The metal clasp connected with Lovino's arm and he winced.

"Bastard!" She screeched, before marching off, high heels clacking against the marble floor. The two stared after her in bewilderment, Lovino still leaning subconsciously against Antonio, before the latter suddenly burst into hysterical laughter.

"W-what the fuck?"

"Did you see her face? Ahaha~ and look at you~! You're _so _red, Lovi! Wow, you're really red! You're even _redder _than a tomato! I didn't even know that was possible~! Ahah~ it's so cute~~ you're so so so so cute when you blush Lovi~!" He leaned forward to pinch those tomato cheeks, grinning himself silly as he did it. Lovino, on the other hand, proceeded to head butt him.

"Ow… that hurt, Lovi…"

"It was supposed to hurt you fucking rapist! How many more times do we have to do that?"

"Uh… well I'm seeing ten girls… I think, so…"

"T-ten times? We have to do that t-ten fucking times?"

"Yup! What's wrong, Lovi? I thought it was fun!"

"O-of course you would think it was f-fun… you perverted b-bastard…" He kicked him in the shins once more for safety, an shooed him back into the café, fanning himself frantically with his hand as he tried to cool his face down.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

There had been a grand total of seventeen girls, and so when Antonio was dragged away by the last greasy haired and absolutely livid girl, Lovino was slumped up against the staircase, feeling absolutely drained. He was surprised his hands and feet didn't go numb from all the blood rushing to his head. His arms and shoulders were aching though, from all the handbag attacks he had suffered, (geez, who knew they could be such dangerous weapons?), and his chest felt tired. Not because his heart had been beating at a rate of 200 miles per hour, no! Of course not!

…

Yeah.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and looked up to see Antonio with a rather prominent hand mark on his face. The sight was so hilarious Lovino had to suppress an urge to giggle hopelessly. Sad little sadist.

"We did it, Lovi! We got rid of them! All of them!" He wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist and hoisted him into the air, ignoring surprised (_manly) _squeaks and weak punches to his arms. He twirled them around for a bit, before swooping in…

and kissing him.

Right. On. The. Lips.

Which was then promptly followed by a painful headbutt to the kidneys.

"Eh… what was that for, Lovi?"

"Y-y-y-y-you bastard! You… you k-k-ki-kis- _you_! AH! Holy shit!" He quickly wiped his mouth with his sleeve, trying not to think of how nice it had felt having those soft lips on his own, trying not to think about those strong arms around his body and…

AHHHHHHH!

"Lovi? You're really red! Are you okay?"

"No of course I'm not, b-bastard!" He knelt down on the ground, eyes squeezed shut as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "forgive me God, for I have sinned," under his breath.

"Did you not like it?"

"The fuck is your problem? Of course I d-d-didn't l-like it! You're fucking gay!"

"What? I kissed you because I was happy, Lovi~! Don't you kiss people when you're happy?"

"No!"

"Eh…" He pouted and dropped down next to Lovino, looking at him worriedly. "I'm sorry, Lovi. Are you angry?" Silence. "Okay… how much do you want?"

"Double,"

"Double?"

"Yes, double! And you're driving me home too! Now move! You're too fucking close!"

"So… you're not angry at me?"

"The fuck I'm not! Stupid bastard…"

Feeling happier, Antonio laughed and stood up again, holding a hand out to help the Italian up. He looked totally and utterly adorable with his face a deep crimson, his lips pouted as he fixed his gaze on the banisters. His hair was slightly mussed, his wayward curl jutting out stubbornly from the side of his head. Resisting the urge to hug him, he instead brushed the chestnut bangs out of his eyes and smiled at him.

He was awarded with a loud slap to his cheek and a string of angry Italian as Lovino caught his wrist and pulled him to the door, blushing all the way.

_So cute~!_

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Anabel Carriedo never really approved of littering; why bother other people when you could just hold onto your rubbish for a few more steps to get to a bin? It was completely silly.

Still, she had that bad habit of throwing stuff around when she got mad, which kind of contradicted her anti-littering beliefs. And right now, she was mad.

The metal name tag barely missed Antonio's curly locks, burying itself in the sofa behind him. Undaunted, Anabel picked up the next nearest thing: a thick hardcover book on business strategies and the like. That almost broke the glass of the trophies cabinet at the back of her office.

"Abuela, you'll destroy your office if you keep this up," Antonio said cheerfully, not looking the least bit disturbed that his nearing seventy-something year old grandmother was throwing potentially fatal things at him with the strength and agility of a teenager. "Maybe you could throw something softer? Like… a tomato?"

"Y-you ungrateful little twerp!" Anabel screeched, reaching into her desk to look for something. Antonio braced himself, assuming it was something much bigger and painful that she was planning to throw at him, but instead she just pulled out a photograph. "Explain this!"

"I'm afraid I can't see from this distance, abuela. You'll have to come closer,"

"I said," the photo was smushed into his face before he managed to peel it off. "Explain. This!" She was seething, ready to shoot smoke out of her ears any minute now. The photo was one of Antonio and some boy, taken by one of the poor girls she had set the boy up with. That wasn't the main problem, however.

The problem was, Antonio was kissing the boy. A boy! A boy! A-

"Yes, abuela, I was kissing a boy, no need to repeat it so many times," Antonio said with fake innocence, which prompted Anabel to slam her hands on her desk so hard a crack appeared in the wood. For the first time, Antonio visibly paled and took a step back. Anabel smirked triumphantly before pointing an accusing finger at her grandson.

"Leviticus 18:22- Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is an abomination."

He raised an eyebrow. "Abuela, are you really going to quote the Bible at me?"

"Leviticus 20:13 - If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them." she continued to recite, because even if she didn't look it, Anabel was an extremely devout and God-fearing woman, and she did everything in her power to get Antonio to be the same. Unfortunately, she had failed, but for him to commit a sin like this! If she didn't fix this, there'd be no heaven for them for sure.

"I didn't sleep with him or anything..." Antonio defended, but she wouldn't hear any of it.

"I will not allow these blasphemous actions to happen in my household!" she screeched, the finality in her tone allowing no room for argument. "You stop all contact with that boy this instant, you understand? I don't want to see him with you ever again!"

"Eso no es justo!" Antonio exclaimed, his look of horror a sharp contrast with his grandmother's anger. "You can't stop me from seeing who I want to!"

"I can, and I am," Upon seeing his expression, she softened. "Look Antonio, I am just doing this for your own good! You know how bad this could be for you…" She was cut off by Antonio rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Abuela, I love Dios too, but I also live in the twenty-first century. You can be as homophobic as you want, but I have my freedom. You said so yourself, I am almost thirty." Here he was, claiming to love God when he was committing such shameful acts with another man, trying to rebel from his own grandmother with her own words. She snapped.

"You cut all ties with him, or I'm disowning you! I will not accept a homosexual grandson!" She ignored all of his whines and pointed at the door. "Do you understand, Antonio? I don't want you seeing him again! Now leave!" She sucked in a breath and waited for the door to close behind him before she let it out shakily and burned the photo in the she picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Mr. Wang? Yes, there is something urgent I need to discuss with you,"

**Translations:  
Qué? Dondé? [Spanish]- What? Where?  
Dondé está la vaca? [Spanish]- Where is the cow?  
****Eso no es justo [Spanish]- That's not fair  
****Dios [Spanish]- God**

**Anabel is so homophobic. Don't hate her please! I tried so hard not to make her a bitchy mom... but yeah. She's religious.**

**BUT THEY KISSED! Oh Antonio, you idiot xD  
**

**Reviews are loveee :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Do not own.**

**~.::~Yao~::.~**

Yao drummed his fingers impatiently on the leather armrest, quietly grumbling about how much time he was wasting here. The day had started so innocently too, with him just chilling in his dim sum shop as usual, and having a chat with the nice old lady from across the street, when Anabel Carriedo, that _ma fan _Spanish lady, phoned and disturbed the peaceful quiet of the little store. And demanded that she see him at once. Well, good lady, I am a grown man and can take care of myself. But no, apparently there was no room for argument.

"Mrs. Carriedo will see you now," the secretary said, holding the door open for him. _Finally_. The Chinese man lifted himself off his chair, dusting his trousers off with his too-long sleeves before slinking into the office. She was sitting behind her desk, looking at him with a forced smile. He responded likewise.

"Señor Wang… pleasure to see you again," Anabel said, gesturing at the chair across from her. He sat.

"Hello," he greeted shortly, before diving right in, "Why did you call me, aru?"

"Well, it has come to my knowledge that in the past few months, you have not been able to pay the rent for your… restaurant." He could swear he saw her rolling her eyes. "Would you like to tell me why?"

"Not enough money, aru. Business hasn't been very good, you see."

"I see…"

"Are you going to send me out, aru?"

"No, no, Señor Wang, I am not going to evict you. I would like to make… a preposition."

He waited.

"You see," she continued, picking up what he presumed to be his file, "This isn't the first time you've missed out on rent. Also, I've been looking at your profits… they are… well, they need work. There have _also_ various complaints to the health department, reports of fake food*… shall I go on?"

"There's nothing wrong with my hygiene, aru." Yao complained indignantly. "The building's just a little old, that's all."

"Mm… well, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to continue like this, or you will become bankrupt by the end of this year," Anabel frowned and closed the file. "So, I'm going to team you up with someone who's just as hopeless as you are."

"_Shen me?_ A partner? I doubt you will be able to find someone anywhere near as hopeless as I, aru,"

Anabel chuckled. "Oh, I assure you, I do. My grandson, Antonio, has turned twenty-eight and is still as wild as a teenager. He needs to settle down, and this would be the perfect opportunity for him,"

"_Xiao _Antonio? He is so old already, aru? Last time I saw him, he was still a wee little boy, and he was so _ke ai _aru!"

"Yes well, time passes quickly," Anabel interrupted his mini spaz attack. "Unfortunately, I might add. He was much easier to handle when he was younger," She paused, remembering the days when Antonio wasn't a rebellious playboy but a cute little toddler, waddling around in his squeaky multicolored shoes and denim overalls, without the harmful influence of that _cousin _of his.

"Anyway, so I want you to work with him. You two would get along quite well, I think,"

Yao's grin was quickly replaced with a worried frown. "But he knows nothing about business management, aru!"

"All the better," Again with the forced smile, "And who better to teach him that someone with your experience, Señor Wang?"

Well he couldn't refuse an offer like that! "Okay, aru! I'll do it!"

"Thank you very much. We will come visit your store later," Yao nodded and turned to leave, but just as he was about to close the door behind him Anabel piped up, "Oh, and please catch up on your rent. Or… well, you know. There will be consequences."

"Aiya!" He swore under his breath, before throwing a smile back at her and closing the door. Damn that rent, he had been trying to save up for the latest Hello Kitty plushie that had been released just last week! Oh well, one more month wouldn't hurt, right?

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

"And then that girl came out and hit us both with her handbag and then Lovi turned _so red_! He was exactly like_ un tomate _and it was _so~~~~ _cute and I could just eat him right up!" Antonio gushed, giggling as he remembered the incident. He blinked happily at Francis and Gilbert, who looked up from their drinking contest to blink at his expectant smile. Gilbert rolled his red eyes and shrugged.

"Sounds like a brat to me," he commented, taking a swig out of his can of beer. "You paid him so much and he still punches you in the stomach? Geez, even the awesome me wouldn't go that far!"

"_Headbutted _him in the _kidneys_," Francis corrected, "I'm disappointed you didn't get laid, _mon cher_. I would have just jumped him right there and then,"

"Well of course you would, Francis, you jump _everything_. I am never touching that lamp again…" Gilbert scrunched up and his eyes and finished the can of beer as if desperately trying to wash out the mental image. He let out a loud sigh of content and three the can at the bin, missing by a few inches. Francis snorted and Gilbert smacked him upside the head.

"I don't want to sleep with him though," Antonio interjected, "He's just a friend~! A really cute friend, but still! We're not like that~ ahah," His friends stopped bickering at this to stare at him in disbelief. He blinked back at them innocently.

"Yo Francis, you sure he's related to you? Maybe he was adopted or something,"

"We aren't related by blood, no. Unfortunately." Francis crawled across the porch and rapped his cousin's head playfully with his knuckles. He winced and weakly batted his hand away. "_But still_! No cousin of Francis Bonnefoy, blood-related or not, should ever say those words! _Ever_! What is _wrong_ with you, _Antonie_? What has happened to all your _amour_? All your passion!"

"Hey! I'm passionate! I'm the most passionate of all!" Antonio protested. "But we're not like that… I've only just met him…"

"Who are you and what have you done to my awesome best friend?" Gilbert countered, punching him in the shoulder for good measure. "If he's as cute as he says, then there's no problem! Besides, that girl at the bar in Madrid? You knew her for what, three seconds? Next thing you know you're lying in bed next to her in some old motel, both naked like babies,"

"Hey! I was drunk!"

"Meh, well you're just lame. Cute girl like that? I would take her anyway, sober or not," He grinned at Francis, who rolled his eyes in disdain and finished his glass of wine, grinning triumphantly at Gilbert as he poured himself another glass.

"_Mi abuela _doesn't approve… she said she'd disown me…"

"Ah, yes, the ever religious Madame Carriedo. You know it's just an empty threat. She loves you too much, you clueless bumpkin. Stop worrying!" Francis said good humouredly, clapping him on the back. Antonio scooted away from his friends to avoid their 'friendly' attacks.

"But…" He was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He dug the device out of his pocket and paused for a second to read the words scrolling across the screen. "Speak of the devil. It's abuela!" He quickly scrambled off the porch to answer the phone.

"Hi, abuela! How are you this fine day?"

"Spare me the niceties, Antonio. I want you to meet me somewhere,"

"Now?"

"Yes, now,"

"But I'm busy-"

"I don't care what you're doing, Antonio, you come meet me this moment! You better not be with that cousin of yours. I don't know how many time I have to tell you, he's a horrible influence on you and-"

"Sí, sí, abuela, I get it, I'm coming," Antonio interrupted, sighing quietly, "Where do you want me to go?" His grandmother gave him the address and he raised an eyebrow. "That restaurant? The one that's run by Señor Wang? Why?"

"Never mind why, just come over! It's very important!"

Another sigh. "Sí, abuela, no need to be so impatient. Have you had your gazpacho yet?" There was a frustrated huff and the line clicked dead.

"Well? What did the old hag want?" Gilbert inquired, throwing his second can of beer into the bin. Antonio frowned as the can missed once again and reluctantly slinked to the growing pile to dump it all in the basket.

"I have to go meet her… apparently it's important," He tucked the phone back into his pocket and grabbed his keys. "Sorry guys… be sure to clean up, okay? Meet you at the bar later?"

"Yeah, sure. Don't die, that so wouldn't be awesome!" Gilbert called after him. Antonio jumped into his car and started it up before flashing them a wide smile. Then he drove out onto the road and soon was gone.

"That kid's in some deep shit, Frenchie. Your family's messed up, man," Gilbert declared, swerving to avoid a fist, and finished off the fifth can of beer.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Wang Yao's restaurant was a dilapidated building sitting in the corner of the street, almost invisible behind the trees, had it not been for the neon sign hanging out onto the road. Two of the four Chinese characters were blinking, while most of the English and Italian part of the sign had broken. The white paint was peeling off the building, and the windows were so dusty it was almost impossible to see through the glass. Antonio raised an eyebrow as he pulled into the driveway; why would his grandmother send him here? Anyhow, he locked the car doors, shooting a friendly smile at the group of guys hanging out in the alley beside the store (why were their clothes so baggy?) and walked into the store.

"Huanying guanglin~" came a voice from behind the pile of boxes that greeted the Spaniard, from which a ruffled looking Chinese man emerged. He stared wide eyed at Antonio before exclaiming loudly, "Antonio! Is that you, aru?"

"¡Hola, Señor Wang! Yes, it is me, ahaha~ It's been a while!"

"A while indeed! You are so big now! Look at you, aru! I remember back then when you were just this tall and you were so cute~" He laughed for a bit before ushering him over to a table. There were two occupied tables: one with an old man who was reading his newspaper and sipping some tea, the other with a middle-age couple eating sponge-like cake. "How old are you now aru? Twenty-five?"

"Twenty eight. My birthday was just last month~" Antonio replied cheerfully, unconsciously drawing little patterns in the dust. "You look well and healthy, Señor Wang. At least your hair is still as black as ever~"

"You flatter me, aru. So, what brings you here?"

"Actually, _mi abuela _asked me to come, she said it was important or something but I don't really know… ahaha~" Yao pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

"Oh yes, she did say she would pay me a visit, aru." Antonio looked at him, confused, and Yao continued, "She didn't tell you? Well, I didn't understand her that well either, aru, but then-" He was interrupted by the ringing of the bell by the door, and he quickly got up from his seat to greet the customer.

"Huanying- oh. Hello, Mrs. Carriedo," he welcomed stiffly, giving a similarly strained little bow.

"Hello, Señor Wang. Is my grandson here yet?"

"Yes, he is over there, aru," he gestured at the table and Antonio grinned and waved at the elderly woman. She scowled and signaled for him to go join them, which he did in his usual bouncy manner.

"¡Hola, abuela! Nice for you to finally join us~"

"Don't give me that attitude!" She elbowed him lightly in the side before clearing her throat and assuming her business voice. "So, Antonio, do you know why you are here?"

"Nope, I haven't the foggiest."

"Well, as you know, I've been trying to get you to settle down for a while, make you a respectable man. Now, Señor Wang here, is… er… having troubles with his business," She glared at the Chinese man before he could protest, before continuing, "So, I want you two hopeless people to work together as a team and rebuild this business into something profitable. Since there are two of you, I expect you to do a better job, understood?" The glare now extended to the both of them, focusing on Antonio. "Antonio, have a good talk with your Señor Wang; he'll be your teacher from now. Okay? Good. I'll leave then."

"E-eh? But… abuela?" Anabel turned sharply and pulled her grandson to a corner, her glower almost dangerous. "The place needs a renovation, yes? Do you have any questions, Antonio?"

"Abuela, you know I can't do this… I'll just mess up and go to sleep! Ahaha~"

"You don't want to do it? Fine. I'll just confiscate your house and car then."

"Oh, come on abuela, you can't do that!"

"Of course I can, they were bought on _my _money. So? You doing it or not?"

"Abuela, that's not fair…"

"Stop whining, you big baby! Do you want to come live with me and your parents? I'm sure they'd love that. Speaking of your parents, your mother wants you for lunch next Sunday. Be sure to turn up, got it?"

"Abuela-"

But she was already out the door. Antonio sighed and ran his fingers through his curly locks, muttering under his breath. Then he turned to Yao, who was still scowling from the encounter with the older woman, but immediately started grinning when he turned back to Antonio.

"So, when do you want to start, aru?"

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

"Please tell me I did not just see Julian frolicking around in a fur coat," Lovino groaned, burying his head in his hands. Next to him, Feliciano looked up from his drawing to glance in their father's direction.

"Ve~ he just got it yesterday! Don't you think it looks pretty?" Lovino peeked out from between the gaps in his fingers and realized his brother wasn't joking. He lowered his hands and (lightly) smacked him upside the head.

"No, Feli, it does not look _pretty_. It looks _expensive_,"

"Mm… I think papa got cold… it is getting quite chilly with winter just around the corner…"

Lovino face-palmed and got up from his chair, marching up to Julian and grabbing his collar to silence the dumb bastard before he tried to get a compliment about his newly acquired clothes. "Julian. How much is left?"

"Ah, Lovi… it's just that… you got so much money recently, I thought if we could celebrate…"

"How. Much. Is. Left?"

The man whimpered, and he bit his lip. "Eighty percent?"

"The _truth, _you sorry bastard!"

Another whimper. "About half," Then he yelped (like a fucking girl) as Lovino threw him backwards into the shelves.

"_Half_? Do you know _what I had to do _to get that money? And you go spend _half _of it on a _fur coat_? Are you doing this on purpose or are you just stupid? Come on, Julian, at least _ask _me before you go spending all the money I worked so hard to earn!"

"I'm sorry! But there's still a lot left~ Even after we pay back all the debts we'll still have enough to last another two months…"

"I don't _care_, Julian, I want a say in my own money as well! After all I went through to get all that…" All he went through to get it… he remembered Antonio, dangerously close to him, lips barely an inch from his own, closing in for the kill…

"Ve… Lovi's blushing… He's really red!" Feliciano piped up, bouncing up from his chair and inspecting his brother's face. "He's really red, papa! Come look!"

"Gah, Lovi do you have a fever?" Julian asked, waving his arms up and down in panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll return the jacket, I promise! I'll return it, oh my gosh he's so red!"

"Wah~ fratello, don't die!" Now both Feli and Julian were frantically fanning Lovi with magazines, trying to cool down his 'fever'. Lovino quickly slapped their hands away, still flaming red and embarrassed.

"S-stupid, I don't have a f-fever! It's just… it's t-too hot in here! Yeah! I'm going out, geez!" His face was now flaming and he was surprised his hair didn't catch on fire from the heat in his face. His family seemed to think the same, because next thing he knew he was spluttering as cold water hit him full in the face. Feliciano leaned in, biting his bottom lip in concern as he went to feel his brother's forehead again. His hand never made it there, because before he knew it the bucket was yanked out of his hands and thrown at his head with full force.

The younger Vargas wasted no time in running away from his now furious older brother, who was closely followed by their exasperated father, wiping up the water dripping from Lovino's hair and clothes.

"Screw you guys, I'm going to work!" Lovino finally yelled, grabbing the closest cloth: Feliciano's shirt, and wiping himself off with it. "Hey, Feli, I don't recognize this shirt. When did you get it?" He sniffed it for a bit before holding it out in front of him. "Smells like shit... and it looks fucking horrible. What happened to your fashion sense huh?"

"Ve~ that shirt isn't mine~"

"Then… who's is it? Julian?" His father shook his head and he turned back to his brother, who was scratching the back of his head sheepishly and looking out the window.

"Ve~ it's Ludwig's! You know, that guy who saved me from the spider?"

"The _kraut_?" He suddenly threw the shirt vehemently across the room, as if it had been infected with some deadly virus. He spluttered and quickly went to the sink to wash his face before yelling, "Why the fuck do you have his _shirt_?"

"Er… well I was eating lunch with him and accidentally spilled some pasta on his shirt… so I offered to wash it for him? Ve~" He stepped back under Lovino's murderous glare. "I'm sorry! Please don't hit me!"

"You- you-! Julian! Did you know about this?" He rounded onto the older man, who also took a step back warily.

"Ahaha, I knew it was a friend's? Ahh! Please don't hit me!"

"You guys are fucking hopeless! You're fraternizing with the enemy, dammit! Feli! I thought I told you to stop seeing the guy!"

"Ve~ we go to the same school though… and don't you have to go to work? It's almost four…" Lovino's eyes widened and he quickly whipped his arm out to check the time. "Shit! You're right! Gotta go! Burn the shirt, Feli!"

"E-eh? But-" His protests were lost as Lovino flew out the door, leaving a suspiciously battered Ludwig shirt in his wake.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"Vargas! You're late!" His boss barked, scowling at his employee's tattered appearance. "Hurry up and get in there! That kid Raivis almost wet his pants again!"

"Again? Geez, what are his parents doing? He turns six next spring for fuck's sake!"

"I'll tell you what they are doing: complaining about the words you're teaching their children! Stop cursing or I'll go out of business! If I get another complaint about your language, you're fired! Now stop stalling at get to work!"

"Geez, does no one have any compassion in the world?" Lovino grumbled quietly before throwing on his work coat and walking into the room. Ten little heads turned his way, all of them with identical looks of impatience on their faces.

"You're late!" One of them chirped, an irritating English boy called Peter Kirkland. Lovino smacked him on the back of his head.

"You shut your mouth. Now, on with the lesson…"

"Lovino, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"I didn't curse, boss, I swear! Please don't fire me!" He dropped his jacket at his feet and held up his hands protectively. The man sighed.

"It's not that, exactly."

"I'm not fired? Awesome!"

"Lovino," his boss started again, taking a deep breath, "I can't afford this place anymore. The owner's going to evict us." He looked away from Lovino's dumbstruck expression. "I haven't been able to find anywhere else affordable. I'm sorry."

"Wha- what do you mean he's going to evict us? The bastard's kicking us out? Then… what about my job? Your job!" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. This couldn't be happening. Without this job, his family would be out on the streets in three months, max. He was pretty sure his boss was in the same predicament as well. "This is some sick joke, right? Right, boss?"

"Y-you… what the fuck! That's just…" He looked at the other man desperately. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, you have your job delivering newspapers right? I'm sure I can find something else…" He smiled weakly at the younger Italian. "Don't worry, okay? We'll figure something out. Until then…" he held out a wrinkled hand, "it's been nice working with you, Lovino. Definitely been… eventful…"

"You too… I guess. Good luck, bastard…" Lovino muttered, shaking his hand. His boss chuckled.

"Really got to clean up that mouth of yours, Lovino." A pat on the shoulder. "Bye."

"Bye, boss," He picked up his jacket, walked out to the road before turning around and giving a last half-hearted wave. Then he started to walk, hands stuffed in his pockets and back hunched over slightly. "Dammit, what the hell? Stupid owner…" Now he had to go get those dolls so they could sew them together. Urgh.

The sky was darkening rapidly as he walked to the store, and by the time he was there it had begun to rain. Scowling, Lovino pulled his hood up and hoped that it wouldn't get too heavy.

Just his luck, when he left the store with two huge plastic bags full of plush dolls, it was raining cats and dogs and all Lovino had was a skimpy hood to protect him from the rain. "Shit! Come on, that's just not cool!" Shielding his eyes from the rain, he quickly ran down the street.

As he was crossing the road, he suddenly collided into something, tripping and landing on his ass on the wet pavement. Swearing loudly, he looked up to see what he had crashed into and saw a lady sprawled out on the ground with another man bending over her with an umbrella, trying to help her up.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Sorry, I didn't see, you-"

"What are you, blind? Watch where you're going! You almost hurt my girlfriend!"

"Look, I'm sorry, here, I'll get your bag for you," He picked the fallen cloth bag off the floor and handed it to the girl before hurrying to gather up the dolls. "Oh come on, these can't get wet…"

"Hey, what are you doing? Come on, look at what you did!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" The dolls fell out of the open bag, and he swore loudly as he bent down to pick up the soaked dolls, "What the fuck is your problem! Get in the stupid bag!" He was stopped by a hand grabbing the back of his jacket and spinning him round so he was facing the umbrella couple.

"You wanna fight, huh? You wanna fight? Come on!" And then a fist was shoved in his face, only missing because Lovino managed to take a step back just in time.

"Don't hit me, please, come on, I said sorry!"

"Hey, don't fight!" the girl cried, grabbing her boyfriend's arm and trying to restrain him. "He already said sorry, don't fight! It's not that serious, come on, let's go!"

"Not that serious?" The man rounded on her now, "He made you all wet! Look at the jerk!"

"You do this every time!" the girl yelled back at him, "You make _such a big_ deal out of such little things! You're driving me crazy!" Then she grabbed the umbrella and walked away, leaving her boyfriend behind with Lovino who was innocently gathering his dolls.

"Hey, you come back here! Shit!" And he grabbed Lovino's shirt, fist ready for the punch. "Look what you did, huh? Hey you better not leave!" He yelled back at the girl, then swung his arm round to hit him another time. Lovino scrunched his eyes up and waiting for the punch.

Suddenly the man was pulled back from Lovino, who blinked blearily at his savior: Antonio was soaked from head to toe, holding the man's arm firmly in an iron grip. His eyes widened in surprise as he tried to yank his arm away from Antonio. "Let go of me! Hey, bitch, you're dead if you leave me now! Let go!"

The girl stopped and turned, scowling heavily. "Hey, what do you mean I'm dead if I leave? You think I'll die from your hand? You arrogant jerk!" And then she was slapping him in a frenzy, umbrella forgotten on the floor. Antonio let go of the man and rushed to help Lovino gather all the dolls, grinning at his baffled expression before draping his jacket over Lovino's head, taking on of the plastic bags and slinging it over his shoulder, and rushing him across the road to under a large leafy tree.

"Ah, shit, we're all wet!

"That we are," Antonio grinned, looking up at the heavy rain. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good… geez, those two were just messed up…" He quickly checked the dolls before raising an eyebrow at Antonio. "What were you doing there anyway, bastard?"

"Ahaha… I just happened to be in the neighborhood! And then I saw you guys arguing so I went over to help~" Another wide grin. "Geez, what's with this weather, huh? Look at you, you'll catch a cold!"

"No I won't! And we should hurry back or these will all get wet…" He looked up at Antonio, who was still smiling at him like a stupid idiot, and he felt his cheeks redden again. "What?"

"It's nothing ahah~ can I stop by your house to borrow some clothes? My house is very far from here~"

"Pfft… sure… just 'cause I don't want you suing me if you get sick. Stupid bastard…"

"Okay! Come on, Lovi!" Then he bundled the plastic bag up into his arms and started running down the road, closely followed by an annoyed Lovino, laughing all the way.

* * *

**I'm pretty sure I warned you xD I'm Chinese, can't really help it…**

**Translations:  
Ma fan (****麻烦****)- Annoying; troublesome  
Señor [Spanish]- Mister  
Shen me? (****什么****)- What?  
Xiao (****小****)- usually means little, here works like –chan in Japanese  
Huanying guanglin (****欢迎光临****)- Welcome **

***fake food- because even the **_**food **_**is fake nowadays D: I can't eat my **_**maan tau **_**in peace without thinking there'll be a worm crawling out of the thing. Nice job, China.**

**I'm sorry this took so long! I had a writer's block that could only produce crappy 3-in-the-morning fics -shot- but hopefully it's gone now :P And yes, there has been A PLOT DEVELOPMENT! WOOT! I apologize for the sloppiness of the writing, but I'll go over and fix it after... ah, I dunno :D**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are love :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N After getting all worked up about countries having names that weren't actually in their language (Hong Kong- Kaoru? No) I realized that Bella is actually Italian… -shot- So… Belgium is now Femke. Sorry for any inconvenience caused :P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

They arrived at Lovino's home several minutes later, absolutely soaked through. Lovino stepped up to the house, sneezing a couple times before digging out his keys and unlocking the door. Antonio looked at him worriedly.

"I told you you'd get sick."

"Shut up, bastard! I'm fine!" With a final fumble the lock clicked and the door swung open. "Guys? I'm home!"

"Ve~ it's raining very hard, are you okay, Lovi?" Feliciano stopped a few steps short of the door when he saw Antonio, looking at his brother for a second before exclaiming: "Lovi! I didn't know you had friends!"

"Shut up you little twerp! Of course I have friends!" He smacked his younger brother on the back of the head before lugging in the plastic bags. "Spagna, Feliciano. Feliciano, Spagna."

"Why are you called Spain?" Feliciano asked, and was promptly glomped by soaking Spaniard who exclaimed, "Oh my gosh he's so cute~ does it run in the family? You two are just so cute~~"

"Hey, stop molesting my brother! Feli, is Julian home?"

"I think he's in the kitchen… papa! Lovi has a friend!"

"What?" There was the sound of rushing footsteps and Julian appeared at the doorway, still holding an oven mitt. "Why hello there! You two are soaking! Have you been running through the rain?"

"Papa, his name is Spagna!" Feliciano exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly. Antonio laughed sheepishly.

"Actually, it's just Antonio, ahaha… Lovi just likes to call me Spain~"

"Well, nice to meet you Antonio~! You wanna come inside, change your clothes?"

"That's the plan," Lovino ground out, and tossed the dolls to Feliciano. "Start working. I'll be in my room. Come on, bastard," He grabbed the Spaniard's arm and dragged him into the house, rudely kicking him into his room and shutting the door. He fumbled a moment for the light switch before grabbing a towel from the hook on the wall and tossing it over to Antonio. "Dry your hair out or the floor will start to rot,"

"Your family's nice~!" Antonio said happily. "Especially Feliciano! He is so~cute!"

"Yeah don't go all pedo on me or I'll fucking kill you. That's my brother you're talking about."

"I'm not being pedo! He is very cute!"He looked around the room- it was at least twice as small as his and three times as messy: books, papers, dolls, and clothes lay strewn across the floor, however, this mess seemed to stop neatly at a line in the middle of the room. There was a desk next to the door, with textbooks and cookbooks piled halfway to the ceiling. On the wall beside it was a cardboard circle cut into sections like a pie chart, with "Lovino's timetable" written across the top in hurried Italian, and some more words that Antonio couldn't understand written on the different colored sections. Antonio turned: behind him was a smaller bed that hadn't been made- the sheets were wrinkled and messed up, but oddly still tucked under the pillow. Either it hadn't been slept in for a while or someone had slept on top of the sheets, which was strange considering how cold the weather was getting.

"You share a room with your brother?"

"Does our house fucking look big enough for us to have our own rooms, bastard?"

"Ahaha I don't know… I only saw a little bit of it,"

"Good thing too, your rich ass might be spoiled by us poor people,"

"What? Of course not!"

Lovino grunted and stared at his shirts, then back at the Spaniard. "Stand up, you," He frowned at the other's height, grumpily noting that he was at least two inches taller than himself. Why did he have to be such a fucking giant? Rummaging through his shirts, he concluded that he did not own a shirt that could fit the Spaniard. Great.

"Don't move bastard, I'll be right back," Throwing the door open, Lovino went over to the laundry room and sure enough found the large shirt belonging to the potato bastard hanging to dry over the washing machine. He scrunched a bit of it in his hand; it was dry enough and he pulled it off the pole. Without asking so much as permission from Feliciano, he returned to the room and threw the shirt at the Spaniard.

"Oh-ah!" The surprised Antonio caught it just before it smooshed his face, then held it out and grinned. "Thank you Lovi! I think this will fit just fine!" He then proceeded to throw his current soaking shirt off.

…

Blushing furiously, Lovino swore loudly and quickly turned away, feeling the burn in his cheeks. "B-Bastard! Warn me before you do that!"

"Huh?

"I don't want to see you strip, bastard!"

"It's not like you haven't seen me without my shirt though… remember when you delivered the gazpacho?"

"Too fucking well," Lovino muttered under his breath, coughing loudly before Antonio could ask what he said and stormed out of the room, still flaming red and letting a whole stream of expletives loose. Antonio looked at his retreating back confusedly for a moment before grinning widely and pulling the new shirt on.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"So, Antonio, how did a handsome man like you meet our Lovino?" Julian asked, leaning across the table with a Cheshire-cat smile pasted on his face. Lovino took the doll he was sewing and smacked him across the head with it.

"You make it sound so weird! Stop being such a lecherous old man!"

"Lovi~ you're so mean! I'm not lecherous, am I, Antonio?"

"Oh don't worry, I have my own share of lecherous old men," Antonio replied, flashing a grin. "Actually, Lovino saved him once, right? And then I offered to give him a job, and yeah~!"

"Oh? What kind of job?"

"A job!" Lovino quickly interjected, before Antonio could say anything potentially destructive. "You know, a-a job! With a suit and shit!"

"Ve~ with a _suit_?" Feliciano asked incredulously, sewing needle poised above his head. "What kind of suit, Lovi? Was it a really expensive suit? Are you rich, Antonio?"

"I do okay," he said, embarrassed, scratching the back of his curly locks.

"Okay? He practically sleeps in money, dammit! He's filthy rich!" Lovino stabbed the doll's eye viciously with the needle, and Antonio winced as he rubbed his own eye.

"Really? Oh, was that the job that got us all that money?" Julian asked excitedly, his doll lying abandoned at the corner of the table. "Was that you? That really helped us, Antonio! I think we owe you a big thank you!" And with that, he leapt from his seat and pulled Antonio into a big hug, surprising the Spaniard before he laughed and returned the hug.

"Ahah~ it's no problem really, it was fun!"

"I-It was definitely n-not f-f-fun!" Lovino protested, going red and punching Antonio hard in the shoulder. He winced and rubbed in shoulder in pain, still laughing sheepishly.

"Really? I thought it was really fun! After all, I got to-"

"OH LOOK IS THE KETTLE BURNING?" Lovino screeched, in a _very manly way_, mind you. He pointed at the kitchen hysterically, while his family looked at him strangely.

"Ve~ we don't have a kettle, Lovi,"

"You don't have a kettle?" Antonio asked incredulously, looking into the small kitchen. "How could you not have a kettle? How do you boil water?"

"With fire, you dumb bastard,"

"Lovi, language!"

"Shut up!"

"Say," Antonio said, interrupting the fight that was about to start, "Could I try sewing one of those? It looks fun!" He pointed at one of the eyeless dolls that were spilling out of the black plastic bag.

"No, you'll mess it up,"

"Hey, Lovi, don't be mean! Of course you can try, Antonio," Julian reached for one of the dolls and handed it to the Spaniard, who held it carefully in his hands as if it were going to break it. "Lovi, why don't you teach him how to do it?"

Grumbling, Lovino pulled his chair across the floor so he was sitting next to Antonio, and shoved a needle and thread in his hands. "Listen carefully 'cause I'm only showing you once, okay bastard?" Antonio nodded happily and Lovino took his own doll in his hands and started showing him how to sew the eyes on properly and in the right place.

"Lovi~ you have really cute hands!" Antonio commented suddenly, gently taking one of his hands in his own and spreading the slender fingers across his palm. "Wow, they're really small! Like a girl's~ ahah"

Immediately, Lovino gave a little squeak (that was _totally _manly) and quickly pulled his 'girly' hands away from Antonio, proceeding to slap him (lightly) across the cheek.

"M-my hands are _not _like a girl's! Keep _your _hands to yourself, bastard!"

A dark blush was spreading across his cheeks, and Antonio, despite having already been hit twice in the span of ten minutes, leaned forward to pinch them between his fingers, eyes wide .

"_Eres tan lindo~ _exactly like _un tomate! _So cute~~~"

Across the table, Julian and Feliciano were watching with wide smiles on their faces.

"Ve~ it's been a long time since I've seen fratello like this," Feliciano mused, leaning his face on his upturned hand as he watched his brother swat away Antonio's hand, blush now tinting his ears red.

Julian sighed and ruffled Feliciano's hair, grin widening as Antonio leaned in and whispered something in Lovino's ear, sly smirk on his face as he pulled away to watch the blush darken even more, if that was possible.

"Ah, my little boys are growing up~"

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Lovino pulled the curtain open an inch, his face falling as he saw the rain pounding relentlessly against the window, glowing yellow in the air under the streetlamps. It looked windy too; the branches and trees were all swaying violently and stray leaves littered the wet ground. He gave a small groan and closed the curtain again.

"Is it still really bad?" Julian asked, looking worriedly at Antonio. Lovino had half the mind to tell the bastard to run through the rain anyway, because there was _no fucking hell _he was staying here, but…

That was… way too mean…

Not that he _cared _or anything!

"He might have to… s-stay over…"

"Ve~ will your parents be worried?" Feliciano asked, and Antonio shook his head.

"I live by myself, so…"

"you can sleep in my bed! I'll stay in papa's room!" the younger Italian chirped, grinning at his brother, who had suddenly spun around from his spot to face the rest of them.

"N-no way! H-he can sleep on the couch! He's g-going to stink up Feli's bed or something…"

"Lovi, don't be so mean! He's a guest, he can't sleep on the couch!"

"He's going to molest me in the middle of the night!"

"Don't be silly Lovi, you're both men!" Julian waved his hand dismissively, ignoring his son's spluttering protests, and turned back to Antonio, who was looking very amused indeed. "Is that okay with you, Antonio?"

"Hm? Oh yes, it's fine~ thank you!" He smiled that charm- _creepy _smile, and Julian smiled back, satisfied.

"We have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, if you need anything else just ask Lovi,"

"Of course~" And with that, Julian retreated with Feliciano into his room, both of them whispering excitedly, leaving Antonio alone with Lovino.

_Great_.

"I don't care what Julian said, you're not sleeping in the same room as me, got it bastard?"

"Aw, why not? I promise I won't molest you in the middle of the night~"

"Yeah, like that'll help at all! You fucking k-ki-ki-k- you know! When I told you not to!"

"I kissed you?"

"Chigi! _Don't say that_! They're right _there!_ What if they h-heard?"

"What's wrong though? Don't you kiss people when you're happy?"

"_No!_ What is _wrong _with you? You don't fucking go around _kissing _people!" His breath was now coming out in shallow pants and his hands were gesticulating frantically what his words could not convey. Antonio raised an eyebrow and laughed softly.

"Could I try sewing more of those dolls? Or do you want to sleep now?"

Still glaring, Lovino shifted and threw a doll to him. "I usually sleep a lot later than this… so it's okay… I guess,"

"A lot later than this? It's almost midnight though..."

"Yeah, I don't usually get back till three o'clock… watch where you're sewing, bastard! If you don't sew it in the center we can't use it!"

"Oh? Ahah… sorry…" He gently pulled the eye out and started again. "Why do you get home so late?"

"I work, unlike you. Rich bastard,"

"Eh? Working so late? Was that what the timetable was on your wall then? Your jobs?"

"Oh yeah, speaking of that, I have to change the thing again… dammit…"

"Why do you have to change it?"

Frowning slightly, Lovino shifted in his seat and said a little uncomfortably, "Well, my boss got evicted from the building where we held self-defense classes, yeah, shut up, you, I know a lot on self defense, stupid bastard! Anyway, yeah, he can't find anywhere else affordable, so I'm basically down on another job." He paused and sighed, looking down at the doll's white eyes, devoid of their black pupils.

"I mean," he continued, "other that the loss of money and shit, I-I kind of liked the job, you know? The kids were a pain in the ass, but you know, they're kids… and I… I didn't get to properly say g-goodbye to them…" He stopped suddenly, and threw the doll down, scowling. "Why the fuck am I telling you this? It's not like this concerns you anyway!" Looking up, he realized the Spaniard was suddenly a lot closer, and the heat immediately rushed up to his cheeks. He leaned away, almost falling out of his seat in the process. "B-bastard, w-what are you doing? M-move! You're too c-close!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," He also scooted back a bit, "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find another job soon! And who knows, maybe your boss will find another place to work!" He beamed at the Italian, who seemed surprised by the sudden softness of his voice and quickly averted his gaze to the floor.

"T-thanks… I guess…"

"Do you need a hug, Lovi~?"

"No, I definitely don't need a hug! Go away! And don't call me Lovi! Stupid bastard…"

"You're so cute when you blush~! So cute~ did I ever tell you that you look _just like _a tomato?"

"I'm pretty sure you mentioned it once or twice, yeah. And I don't look like a tomato." he replied sarcastically, trying desperately to quell the blush on his cheeks. "I'm going to sleep. God knows I haven't had a good night's rest since sixteen,"

"Oh, I'll come too!"

Ten minutes later, Lovino, teeth brushed and bladder relieved, climbed into bed, wriggling a bit under his sheets before sighing contently. Next to him, Antonio was fumbling a bit with his shirt (kraut bastard's). Then he reached into his bag, snapped open his phone and typed something into it, snapped it shut again, and went over to the light switch.

"I'm turning the light off now, Lovi,"

"It's Lovino. And go ahead," The room suddenly went dark and Lovino gave a small groan as he snuggled deeper into his blankets. He heard some rustling in the bed next to him, and assumed Antonio had gotten into the bed too.

"Goodnight, Lovi~"

"Mm… night…" Antonio yawned and smacked his lips, and there was more rustling as he rolled around on the bed. Lovino frowned and turned so his back was facing him and scrunched his eyes up, trying to sleep.

"Lovi?"

"What? And it's Lovino,"

"You know, I might actually have a job for you,"

"I'm not interested,"

"Why not?"

"Because it might be something really fucking perverted again, like a f-fake l-l-lover! Or something…"

"It's not, I promise,"

"Yeah right,"

"It's not!"

Sighing, Lovino sat up cross-legged in his bed, facing the Spaniard who had also gotten up as well; he could see his the outline of him in the murky dark. He yawned once more before asking, "What is it, then?"

"Well, do you know the dim sum shop near here?"

"The one run by Signor Wang?"

"Sí,"

"What about it?"

"_Mi abuela _is making me run it, and I need staff and people to work for me, you know?"

"Signor Wang sold his shop?"

"Er, no he's… the co-manager? I think…"

"With _you_? You're going to go bankrupt in two days," A scoff, followed by a light chuckle.

"Ahah~ I hope not… abuela's already taken my car away and she'll take away my house too if I go bankrupt…" He paused to pout, although Lovino didn't see this.

"And… you want me to work for you?"

"Yeah! You're so smart, Lovi~"

"I know I am right? Glad to see someone appreciates me," A pause, "How much do I get?"

"Well, I guess that depends on what you do? I'm not really sure… I've never done something like this, ahah~"

Lovino rolled his eyes. _Rich _and_ lazy bastard_. "Well, if you've got a restaurant, obviously you'll need waiters, cleaners, chefs, yeah?"

"Señor Wang can cook,"

"Pfft no one likes going there, let alone eat his food, dammit. Apart from some old women or something,"

"Really? Why? Chinese food isn't that bad… ahah~"

"It's not so much the food than the fucking filth in that restaurant. Practically covered in dirt, dammit,"

"I have to agree with you there... So? Do you want to work with me? I might need your help with this… and you will get paid… ahah~ Besides, it's very fun working with you~! Not just working with you, being with you too~ ahah~" He was met with silence and after a few moments Antonio asked worriedly, "Lovi?"

"I'll think about it. I'm too sleepy right now, stupid bastard,"

"Ahah~ sorry… goodnight then,"

"Mm," Lovino lay back down on his pillow and pulled his blanket over his head, desperately trying to quell the heat in his cheeks.

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

He woke up the next morning from a dream about tomatoes (surprise, surprise) with the sun hitting his face through the thin curtains. Blinking in surprise, he yawned widely and slowly got up, taking a moment to remember where he was. He turned to the bed next to him, and saw it was surprisingly empty, the blanket folded and thrown on top of the pillow. On top of it was a note and a plush doll.

He swung his long legs over the side of the bed, walked over to the other bed, and picked up the note. The writing was messy and rushed, but he could still read it.

_Spagna,_

_The eyes were too crooked to use, stupid bastard. Keep it. Your clothes from yesterday are in the laundry room, they should be dry now. After you change, burn the shirt you're wearing. Hopefully without Feli seeing._

_And about your restaurant… I'll do it, but I better get a good salary or I'm going to fucking castrate you! And don't slack off, lazy bastard. _

_Definitely-not-Lovi Lovino Vargas_

_P.S. Oh, and please, renovate the place. It stinks to the high heavens, dammit._

Smiling, Antonio picked up the small doll and ran a thumb over its eyes fondly, feeling a warm and fluttery feeling in his chest as he read the words again. Lovino was just so cute! He opened his bag, carefully put the doll in, then folded the note and tucked it into his wallet. Then he went outside.

Feliciano was tucking some books into a backpack when he saw the bedroom door open and the ruffled Spaniard walk out.

"Good morning Antonio! Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Feliciano! I slept very well, thank you~ Do you know where Lovi is?"

"Lovi's gone to deliver newspapers to people," Julian's voice came from the kitchen. His head stuck out of the doorway and he smiled at Antonio. "Good morning! Your clothes are over there," He pointed at a door at the end of the hallway. "They're all dry now, so you can wear them. Are you staying for breakfast?"

"No thank you, I really should be getting back." Antonio grinned, grabbing his clothes. "Lovi starts work so early?"

"I told him not to, my poor boy, he works himself too hard," Julian pouted, a look of guilt passing his face. "But what with the self-defense class closing and everything, we haven't really got a choice…" He paused, then turned to Feliciano desperately. "Feli, do you think papa is useless? Lovi's always telling me off for wasting money, and now he's working so hard, and papa's just buying more things…" And then suddenly he was in tears, and Feliciano had leapt up from his seat to go comfort him. Antonio stood on the side, looking very confused.

"You're not useless, papa! Don't cry, papa, or I'm going to cry too… ve…"

"Feli, how come you're so good to papa? You shouldn't be so good to papa, Feli~!"

"What are you talking about, ve? Of course I should be good to you, papa~" He patted him on the back, and Julian sniffed, no longer crying. Then he turned to Antonio, who was looking positively baffled at the whole situation, and was shifting his weight awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Antonio, do you need anything else?"

"Er… would you happen to have a fire where I could burn this shirt?"

"Ve~ Why do you want to burn it?"

"Ahah~ Lovi told me to… I'm not sure why either, actually…"

"Eh? He did? Isn't that Ludwig's shirt?" He stepped closer, slightly confused. "It is Ludwig's shirt! I was wondering where it had gone…"

"Oh? So should I burn it?"

"No! I mean, please don't… Ludwig would get mad at me…"

"Er…" He pulled the shirt over his head, straightened it out, folded it and handed it back to Feliciano, who grabbed it protectively with a soft "ve~", before smiling gratefully at the Spaniard. He grinned back and pulled his own shirt on. "Well, I should be going now!"

"Wait, er…" Feliciano was clinging to his sleeve, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. Antonio almost melted at the cuteness. He looked so similar to Lovi~ "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

"How do you feel about Lovi?"

"About Lovi? Er… he's a friend… and he's really cute~! Especially when he blushes! I never knew people could become _that _red! "

"You think Lovi's cute? Really?"

"Yep! He is so~ adorable! Maybe that's why I asked him to become my fake lover…"

"Fake lover? Ve~"

"Yeah! That was the job he was talking about~" He failed to notice Julian suddenly putting down his spoon and staring at them with round eyes, listening to every word. Feliciano was looking very interested. "It was really fun! Even though… Lovi hit me a lot and demanded double… ahah~"

"You didn't take advantage of him though, did you?" Julian asked, suddenly feeling protective. Antonio went a little red at the implications, but shook his head.

"No, of course not, I would never do that to him~ it was all just pretend… ahah~ I was trying to get rid of some girls, you see,"

"Oh? Well, that's good. I'm glad he's met you, Antonio. I've never seen him so lively since… well, a long time~ Right, Feli?"

"Yeah! Fratello used to be all sulky and stuff, but now he seems happier! He's not hitting me all the time anymore, and he's not yelling at papa so much anymore... and he actually smiles now! We never used to see him smiling~"

"Really? Lovi can smile?" He tried to imagine it: the swearing and grumpy Italian breaking into a dazzling smile, complete with sparkles and tomatoes flying about. _Oh my gosh it was perfect! So cute~ _Antonio laughed, scratching the back of his head. "I'm glad. I would really like to see him smile one day. He's always scowling and it's not very cute~" Feliciano nodded enthusiastically in agreement, and Antonio chuckled again.

Well, I got to go… thank you very much!"

"It's no problem. Come visit more, yeah?"

"Okay!" He gathered his things and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Bye!" He opened the door and stepping out into the cool morning air. Turning around, he waved at the two Italians sitting around the table, before closing the door and walking out to the fence. The rain had stopped at the sun was shining brightly next to the fluffy white clouds. Antonio pulled out his phone.

"Abuela? It's me, Antonio. Could you please give me my car back? You said to run the restaurant right? Yeah, I'm going to do it~ When I say I'll do something I do it, don't I? Thank you, abuela~"

**~.::~Francis~::.~**

Francis yawned widely as he stepped out of his bedroom and went to make some coffee. He was in the middle of making breakfast too when the doorbell rang. Groaning, he padded over to the door and pulled it open.

Femke was standing outside, hands clasped behind her back and head turned towards the floor as she looked up at the surprised Frenchman.

"Hi, Francis,"

"Leave."

"Please, can I talk to you?"

"_Non_. Now go away." He was ready to close the door, but her hand was already pushing it open, her eyes wild with desperation.

"Francis," she said, voice firm despite the tears forming in her eyes. He sighed, pursing his lips together as he turned to look at her. "Please, hear me out,"

"What do you want?"

"I know you hate me. If I were you, I'd hate me too," She fiddled with the ribbon in her hair. "Please, I am so sorry. I know I was wrong, and I know I hurt you. It was a big mistake. I should never have left you, Francis. I know that now. And I doubt that you will, but please, could you forgive me? I miss you so much, Francis…" She took a tentative step forward, eyes studying him, seeing if he would take the step back. He didn't, so she took another step forward, until then were barely only a couple of inches from each other. "Please, Francis? Could we start again?"

"Why are you doing this to me, Femke? Pourquoi?"

"Because I love you, Francis. I know that now. I love you, not Nikolaas, you." She stood there hopefully, waiting for him to respond, before taking that last step forward.

He stepped back, and closed the door. Femke was left standing with a door in his face. Looking down, she took a deep breath and letting the tears running freely down her cheeks as she stared at the wooden door. He had just closed it. After she had poured her heart out, he had just turned around and locked her out. Well, what else did she expect? He was really too good for her.

On the other side of the door, Francis leaned against the cold wood, and buried his head his hands, breaths shallow, as he listened to Femke's sobs. He bit his lip, heart beating violently against his ribcage as he heard the sobs escalate. _Please, please don't do this to me…_

He got up, unlocked the door, and threw it open. Femke almost fell through in surprise. She looked wide-eyed at him, tear tracks shining in the morning sun, questioning silently.

He grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the house, and pressed his lips to hers to kiss her passionately, tangling his fingers in her hair. She gave a small squeak of surprise, before kissing back with equal passion. Her hands went to wrap around his waist, and she pulled him closer until he was flush against her.

_I love you, Francis_.

* * *

**I'm so cheesy~~~! XD ****FRANCIS AND FEMKE (not Bella, Femke) ARE SO HARD TO WRITE D: Because I had to ruin the scene with some random French xD Pourquoi, Candied Sweets? You suck :D **

**Yeah… not much happened… just lots of cheesy fluffiness. The Italian family is so fun to write :)**

**Translations:  
Spagna [Italian]- Spain  
Signor [Italian]- Mister  
Señor [Spanish]- Mister  
Non [French]- No  
Pourquoi [French]- Why?**

**So, I have my Spanish exams and Math exam soon, so it'll be while before I can update again, I think... although GCSE is horribly easy. So I doh noh. Oh, and t****op score in my History class~! Thank you Hetalia! xD**

******EDIT: Added a little bit more (really should be studying...) and got rid of excess "ve~"s**

**Anyway, hope you liked it, and thank you to all those who reviewed. Love you all :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**July 1: Happy birthday Hong Kong! And Canada!  
****July 4: Who? xD**

**Disclaimer: Do not own**

**~.::~Yao~::.~**

"I can't manage a dim sum shop,"

Yao's head whipped around suddenly, his long ebony hair flying, as he looked questioningly at the Spaniard. Said Spaniard simply smiled innocently from the glass table behind the counter.

"Why not? I thought you had agreed with your grandmother to work here,"

"I agreed to work here, yes. But I can't manage a dim sum shop, you see?"

"I… I'm afraid I don't follow,"

"What I mean is," He got up slowly from the chair, not bothering it tuck it in as he walked over to the counter next to Yao and pulled out one of the plastic coated menus. "it's perfectly fine for _you _to own a Chinese restaurant, you are Chinese, after all. But me? I can't read half of this menu." He trailed a finger over the complicated characters, his face scrunched up in confusion. "That just won't work."

"Chinese food can be enjoyed by people who aren't Chinese, aru," Yao replied dismissively, going back to cleaning the counter. "And I can teach you how to read it. It's not very difficult, it is only a menu after all,"

"Yes, that is all well, but I am the manager of this shop. Perhaps I can have a say in the menu too?"

"I hope you are not suggesting we get rid of the Chinese food altogether. I don't think I could stand that,Antonio, aru"

"No, of course not, Señor Wang! You are the original owner of this restaurant after all!" He broke into a small chuckle and waved his hands frantically in front of his face. Yao narrowed his eyes slightly, before sighing in relief and laughing a little too.

"So… what were you thinking about?"

"Erm… do people like eclectic foods?"

"Eclectic…?" Yao wrinkled up his nose and turned so he was facing Antonio, leaning against the newly cleaned counter. "I don't think so… aru"

"Mm… well, in any case, it's something you might want to consider."

"You'll need to hire new chefs, buy new ingredients, the works!"

"It's nothing we can't handle, I think. Abuela has given me quite a generous budget, ahah~" Yao frowned, disliking the idea of changing his precious menu that he had worked on for so long to the point of perfection. But then again, if he didn't pay his next rent, he'd be kicked out completely, and that was an ending he _definitely _didn't want.

"Oh, and the place will need a renovation too."

"A _renovation, _aru? You do realize how much that would cost, right?"

"Don't worry, Señor Wang. I know someone who could do it for a discount… hopefully…"

"Hopefully…?" _Aiya…_ this was going to be difficult…

**~.::~Antonio~::.~**

"Hey Gilbert, are you working on anything right now?"

"Hm? What d'you mean?"

"You know, designing stuff? Are you working on any projects?"

Gilbert's job was, ironically, the most parent-friendly within the Bad Touch Trio: he was an architect and interior designer. He also worked as an engineer on the odd week or so, and the rest of the time he was employed as 'an awesome'. "Because awesome is too awesome to not be a noun, kesesese,"

"Nope! My boss couldn't handle my awesome so he gave me a little two-week break!" He finished his beer with one long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sighing loudly in content. "German beer~"

"Could you help me with something then?"

"Hit me with it. If it's awesome I'll do it! Kesesese… I'm so funneh"

"Ahah~ I know you are Gilbert~!" And they laughed idiotically for a bit.

"So you know the Chinese restaurant run by Señor Wang?"

"The steaming pile of shit dumped in some lonely corner of some Italian street?"

"Er… yeah. Could you help me renovate it?"

"You want me to renovate _that _place? Dude, so _not _awesome. Why do you care about that place anyway? It's going to get torn down soon anyway. Something to do with your grandmother, actually"

"Ahah~ abuela told me to take over the restaurant and make it more profitable or something…"

"And you're actually doing what she says?" He grasped Antonio's shoulders and shook roughly, mock worry on his face. "Who are you and what have you done to Antonio?"

"I am Antonio though…" he pried Gilbert's hands off him and guided them back to his can of beer. "Well, I didn't want to do it at first… but then Lovino told me to do it… so yeah!"

"Wait, Lovino? The little Italian brat?"

"He's not a brat!" Antonio protested indignantly. "He's really cute and hardworking and he cares about his family and he's actually really nice on the inside and-"

"Gee Toni," Gilbert interrupted, smacking his palm down on the table to emphasize his point, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were falling for the guy. Which is _not _awesome dude. Especially with your grandmother being such a homophobic prude and everything."

"I'm not falling for him! We're just friends… ahah~" The albino raised an eyebrow at that, but Antonio missed the gesture and continued talking.

"So I think the restaurant will need a full renovation, maybe even moving it to another site entirely since no one can really see it behind the trees… And we need something that will appeal to younger people, so maybe something brighter? Then I can find someone to paint pictures to hang on the walls…"

"Oh Toni, you work so hard when you want to. Just take me to the place and we'll work something out, okay? Awesome!" And he picked up his beer can and clanked it against Antonio's barely touched one, grinning widely as he gulped the alcohol down.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

"Ciao"

"¡Hola, Lovi! ¿Qué tal?"

"Spagna? How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Lovi? What the fuck do you want?"

"Are you free right now?"

"Fuck no."

"What are you doing?"

There was a pause, then he answered irritably, though tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "Algebra. So leave me alone!"

"…why are you doing algebra?"

"Because I fucking dropped out of high school, that's why! So either tell me what you want, or leave me the fuck alone!" Antonio raised an eyebrow at that, but decided not to press on.

"Could you come meet me somewhere? I need some help with the restaurant… ahah~"

Another pause, and Antonio was getting worried that he'd somehow pissed the irritable Italian off again. Then he answered quietly, stuttering a little.

"S-sure… bastard…" Then he hung up, just like that.

Antonio smiled at the blinking screen of his phone and unconsciously started tracing the letters L-O-V-I, thinking how very cute little Lovi was.

How _lovely_ he was! Lovi-ly? Geddit?

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

Trust the Spaniard to be late. This was the second time the bastard made him wait in the sun, dammit!

(Never mind that it was actually pretty chilly, or that last time Lovino had been forty-five minutes. What the fuck are you talking about?)

He had the car! He wasn't allowed to be late!

"Lovi~"

"You're late, bastard!"

"You been waiting, brat?"

He turned sharply and raised an arm to protect himself from the new voice. A very pale person with white hair and freakishly red eyes sauntered over, grinning widely as he slung an arm over the Italian. "Hey Toni, he's actually pretty cute! No wonder you get turned on by him!"

"G-get off me, bastard!" Lovino yelled, blushing hotly as he tried to throw the albino off of him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Gilbert, stop molesting him!" came Antonio's voice from behind, and the weight was pulled away, only to be replaced by another more familiar, but no more welcome arm. _Okay, maybe a little more welcome. A _little_! _"Hi Lovi! Sorry I'm late, I got held up for a bit… this is Gilbert by the way."

"Hey, aren't you the bastard who was convinced that I was trying to steal your money or some shit?"

"Yeah, I'm the one! The one and only king of awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!"

"Urgh, your name sounds German."

"It _is _German. German things are awesome!"

"Fucking potato lover,"

"Hey, what d'you just call me? Just 'cause you can't handle my awesome!"

"Oh I can handle your non-existent awesome just fucking fine, thank you!" The two of them glared at each other, almost shooting sparks between their eyes. Antonio sweatdropped and squeezed himself in between them, holding them out at an arm's length.

"Okay you two, no fighting… ahah~"

"Well what the fuck is the potato doing here?"

"He's an architect and interior designer and engineer and… awesome…" He cast a sideways glance at Gilbert, who flashed a thumbs-up of approval. Lovino rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he's going to help with the renovation of the restaurant."

"Damn straight I am! What are you going to do huh, little Italian?"

"Little? I'm not fucking little! You're not much taller than me anyway!" Only about half a head. Shut up.

"I forgot to tell you guys!" Antonio cut in suddenly, looking a little worried. "Mi abuela wants to monitor my progress or something like that… so she wants to meet with you… is that okay?"

"Dude, the bitch thinks I'm gay with you or something. And I don't think she'll like the Italian very much either… totally not awesome."

"What? She doesn't even know me!"

"Don't worry, abuela will love you!" Antonio assured, grinning from ear to ear. Gilbert sighed and hung his head, while Lovino stood there looking a bit confused. "Well, shall we go in?"

The three of them wrinkled their noses when the strong smells of pork buns attacked their poor unsuspecting senses. However, instead of the usual cheerful Chinese welcome, they were met with the almost frightening sight of Anabel Carriedo, looking quite irritable as she sat in one of the tables near the window.

"You're late," she barked, narrowing her eyes when she saw the two people accompanying her grandson. "Well, don't waste your time dilly-dallying. Sit down!"

"Lo siento, abuela, we got held up~" Antonio explained as he dropped down across from her. Gilbert quickly took the chair the furthest from her, which left Lovino sitting almost next to her, who tried (and failed) to subtly push his chair closer to Antonio. She looked like a fucking _witch_, dammit! How could someone like this possibly be related to the Spanish bastard?

"I assume these are your staff?"

"¡Sí! This is Gilbert Beilschmidt, and this here is Lovi!"

"It's Lovino…"

"Yes, I know who the German is," She regarded him lightly, almost tiredly. "And what are your jobs here?"

"Gilbert is going to help with the renovation and redesigning the place, and Lovi is…" Antonio paused and looked quizzically at the Italian. "What _are _you going to be doing… actually?"

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Lovino muttered, "Waiter. I'm going to be a waiter."

Anabel turned to look at Lovino and frowned. "Have a seen you before, boy? What is your surname?"

"Uh… V-Vargas, ma'am. Lovino Vargas…" He was feeling very awkward under her critical gaze and tried moving a bit further away. He looked questioningly at Antonio, who half-shrugged when he suddenly became very pale and his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth hung open.

"A-ah, abuela, he used to work at the gazpacho shop! You know, the one you like so much? He might have delivered to you once or twice…"

"No… I'm pretty sure I've seen you somewhere else…" She suddenly grabbed his chin and twisted his head round to get a better look at his face. "Have you been involved in some scandal with my grandson, young man?"

"S-scandal? Uh… I don't… think so?"

"Kesesese, maybe you're just getting a little old, Grandma Carriedo!" Gilbert piped up from the far end of the table, smirking widely. "After all, you're what? Seventy-five?"

"You watch your mouth, Beilschmidt! And I am _not _seventy-five, I am seventy-two! Learn to respect your elders!" She berated loudly, glaring daggers at the albino, who only laughed cheekily and spun around in his chair. Antonio himself looked like he was trying to contain his own laughter.

"So, Antonio, what is your business plan?"

As the Spaniard explained his plan for how to revive the restaurant, Lovino leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. The bastard actually could do something if he wanted to, instead of being the hopeless and lazy idiot he had first thought he was. And as he explained the advantages of introducing a more international menu and one that catered more to younger people, Lovino could not help but admire the glint of passion in his green eyes, or the way his brown curls framed his face, or the way his teeth flashed whenever he smiled, or that when he smiled he was the most handsome thing on Earth.

_W-what?_

_Definitely _not handsome! Idiotic more like! N-no fucking way was he _h-handsome_!

He coughed loudly and the other three turned to look at him. He bit his lip and announced that he had to go to the toilet, trying very hard to quell the heat rising to his cheeks as Antonio looked at him.

"Are you okay, Lovi? You look very red…"

No such luck, unfortunately.

"I-I'm fine… don't mind me… just keep talking…" With that, he stumbled awkwardly to the small toilet in the corner, shut the door, and leaned against it, suddenly feeling very tired, with a burning heat in his cheeks and a light fluttering in his stomach.

"D-dammit…"

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

There was some more talking to be had, then Yao showed Gilbert around the shop so he could start figuring out how to redesign the place. Anabel frowned at Lovino, trying to remember where she had seen him before, while Antonio tried very hard to steer her away from there. She asked him some questions that got a little awkward: eg. How do you know Antonio? Then she talked to Antonio for a bit in damned _Spanish_, and then Gilbert came back and the three of them left the restaurant to look for more staff. Which included the creepiest bastards Lovino had ever seen.

All in all, it was a very hectic day.

"Let's go eat dinner! I'm starving… oh and I'll pay too! Where do you want to go?" Gilbert jumped up enthusiastically and waved his hand in the air.

"Can we go to the bar?"

"No, Gilbert. Lovi?"

"Anywhere… I don't give a shit…" He draped himself onto the side of the car, absolutely exhausted. He hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch today either, and his stomach was screaming itself hoarse. Horse. MEAT!

"I always choose though… it's your turn this time~!"

"Urgh… fucking bastard… just…" He gestured to one of the small restaurants on the side of the street, crowded and bustling at dinnertime. Gilbert followed his fingers and raised an eyebrow at the slight shabbiness of the building, but before he could say anything Lovino was marching to the door.

"You said I could choose, and I fucking chose, so now we're going to eat and there's nothing you can do about it, bastards!"

"It's not like I'm going to let you take me somewhere nice and expensive all the time, idiot." Lovino explained when they had sat down and ordered. "Besides, the food here isn't half bad. Live like people with a normal amount of money for once in your fucking life, geez."

"Just because you're a poor brat doesn't mean we have to be." Gilbert retorted, cringing at the dirt on the table.

"Hey, who're you calling a brat, fucking potato?"

"Yeah I know potatoes are awesome, kesesese!"

And Antonio laughed sheepishly, feeling slightly left out.

The food arrived a few minutes later. Antonio and Gilbert took out their forks, but they weren't even fully in their hands before the steaming plate of pasta was suddenly grabbed and consumed in what seemed like one giant gulp by a starved-to-death Italian.

"Dude, that is disgusting. You're like a dog or some shit…"

"I'm hungry, leave me the fuck alone." He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked hopefully at Antonio's tomato sauce pasta. "Are you going to eat that?"

"Do you want to share?"

"Fuck no. It's either yes, I'm going to eat it, or no, I'm going to give it to you because I'm a fucking generous bastard like that."

"Er… we could order another one?"

"Yes!"

"So," Gilbert said another few minutes later as Lovino worked through his third plate. "Lovino, yeah? Are you gay?"

He choked quite violently on the spaghetti and started hacking and wheezing until his airway cleared up again. Antonio offered him a glass of water, which he grabbed and gulped down.

"What the fuck, bastard? Of course I'm not gay!"

"Oh? Toni, I'm afraid you're out of luck, then. The Italian isn't gay."

"W-what? We're just friends, Gilbert! Just friends!"

"A-actually, we're not even friends! W-we're like… a-acquaintances! Yeah! Actually not even that… I just k-know you…"

"You're so mean, Lovi! And your cheeks are really red~!"

"T-They are n-not! Shut up, bastard!"

"Hey, we should go to the bar! Drinks all around!"

"No, Gilbert."

"Hey, you guys spoke at the same time! That is so awesomely couple-like! Kesesesese~!"

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

Half an hour later, Lovino was sleeping on the tabletop, his face pillowed in his arms and his hair curl jutting out stubbornly as he snored lightly. Gilbert was drinking a can of beer that he had magically conjured out of nowhere, and a little fluff ball of yellow had suddenly appeared above his head and was now circling it repeatedly. Antonio was worrying if Lovino was cold.

"Leave him be, Toni. He's not some girl, he can brave the cold like a man!"

"But he's wearing so little…" He shrugged off his jacket and smoothed it out before gently draping it over Lovino's shoulders, careful not to wake him. The Italian stirred slightly, then unconsciously pulled the jacket closer and slept on. Antonio almost squealed at that.

"Gilbert, he's so cute! Don't you think so?"

"I think he's completely out of it, and that I really need another beer. You coming?"

"I have to take him home…"

"Eh, suit yourself then, Mr. un-awesome. I'll just drag Francis along or something. Have fun with the little Italian, kesesese~" He slammed some money on the table and sauntered out of the restaurant, bird perched on his head. Sighing, Antonio paid the rest of the bills and carefully lifted the sleeping Italian up bridal style, making sure his head didn't roll too far back.

He lay him down in the car gingerly, pulled the seatbelt over, buckled it, and straightened to admire his sleeping face. He looked so cute, especially now since he wasn't shouting or frowning or head-butting kidneys. He was just peacefully prancing around somewhere in Lala land, completely oblivious to the fingers that were now softly tracing the lines on his face. Antonio smiled as his thumb ran over the curves of his eyelids, the wrinkles on his forehead, the contours of his nose, his sharp cheekbones. Then the fingers landed on his dainty lips, slightly open as he snored on. Unconsciously, Antonio started to remember the time when he had kissed Lovino briefly, completely out of happiness and with no romantic intention, but it had still felt great nonetheless, and thinking of it now made his heart jump and butterflies flutter in his stomach.

_Was Gilbert right? Am I falling for him? _He quickly shook his head, attempting to clear those thoughts. He was obviously feeling this was because of the cuteness of it all, like when he saw a perfect tomato or a little kid with a balloon. And with that reassurance his mind, he went over to the driver side of his car, got in, and drove to Lovino's house.

The lights were off in the small residence when Antonio pulled into the driveway, but flickered on as he carried the still sleeping Italian to the front door. The door flew open to reveal a sleepy Feliciano in his sleeping gown and rubbing his eyes.

"Antonio? What happened to Lovi? Is he drunk?"

"Oh no ahah~ he just fell asleep during dinner… I think he hasn't been sleeping very well lately. Er… could I bring him in? He's a little heavy." Feliciano jumped aside apologetically and took him to their shared room, where Antonio gently put him down onto the bed.

"Ve~ thank you for bringing fratello home, Antonio."

"Ahah it's no problem," He showed himself to the door, waving goodbye to Feliciano before stepping out into the cold. He sprinted to his car car, shivering as he quickly jumped in and drove away.

Inside, Feliciano stroked his chin, thoughtful.

"Ve~ Antonio sure is nice to fratello…"

Cue manipulative grin.

**~.::~Lovino~::.~**

He woke up the next morning surprisingly comfortably and without the headache that usually kicked in after four hours of sleep. He was quite content with staring at his ceiling for a few minutes, when he realized he had no idea how he had gotten home after losing consciousness last night.

Groaning, he hobbled out of the room and was greeted by the sight of Feliciano slurping up spaghetti and babbling about something in a speed that was too fast for Lovino's still half-asleep brain to comprehend, but when he saw his brother appear he stopped and greeted him cheerfully.

"Good morning Lovi! Did you sleep well last night?"

"How did I even get home last night? And I slept like a fucking _log_, thank you very much,"

"Ve~ Antonio brought you home! You were completely out of it, Lovi! What were you _doing _last night?"

"Eating dinner and passing out. Dumbass." He pulled out a chair and plopped down on it. "Julian! Any more spaghetti?"

"Yes there is~ Papa's special recipe coming out now!" He emerged from the kitchen with a steaming plate of pasta heaped on top of it, which he put down in the middle of the table. "Although it's not very healthy for you to eat pasta for breakfast boys…"

"Fuck healthy, I'm starving,"

"Language, Lovi,"

"Fuck,"

Julian tsked and sat down next to Feliciano, watching his sons eat with an expression that was _definitely _not pedo. "You seem to be good friends with Antonio, Lovi~"

His cheeks reddened almost instantly, and he hastily tried to hide the blush with a big helping of pasta in front of his face. "W-what the fuck are you talking about? Friends with t-that S-Spanish bastard? D-Don't be silly… geez…"

Julian and Feliciano simply smiled knowingly, finished off their breakfast and got ready for the day ahead of them. Lovino scowled darkly and shoveled the remaining pasta in his mouth before tossing the plate almost vehemently into the sink. It clattered loudly against the rest of the dishes but didn't break. Unfortunately.

He wanted tomatoes.

**~.::~Anabel~::.~**

She sighed as she settled into the sofa in her office, feeling quite fatigued and like her age for once. Her hand unconsciously came to rest above her hip, over the tumor that was slowly but steadily growing underneath. Taking another deep breath, she leaned forward and grabbed a pile of things from the coffee table and flipped through them.

As she picked up the company's accounts book, something fell out from its pages and fluttered to the floor. Anabel bent down to pick it up, dusted it off, and flipped it around to see what it was.

Antonio. Kissing a boy.

And not just any boy.

Anabel narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. Behind her, lightning tore through the sky.

_Lovino Vargas_.

******This will be subject to change (technically it's not even finished), but since I'm off to America for a month in a few hours, I won't have the chance to write this, so I might as well put it up now. Hope it doesn't make your eyes bleed... :P ************Maybe I'll see some of you guys there :D But then eh, we won't recognize each other... oh well. :D**

**********Thank you to all those who reviewed, favorited and alerted this! :)**


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